3  1822  01024  6593 


LIBRARY 

UN;v  N. 

CALIF: 

SAN  DIEGO 


OF 


PS  3545  A57  03 
UNIVERSITY   OF   CAL  FORNIA       AN   D  EGO 


3  1822  01024  6593 


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A   DAUGHTER   OF   THE   RICH 


A 


Daughter  of  the  Rich 


BY 

M.  E.  WALLER 

AUTHOR    OF    "  THE    LITTLE    CITIZEN" 


ILLUSTRATED    BY 
ELLEN    BERNARD    THOMPSON 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND    COMPANY 


Copyright,  1903, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY, 


All  rights  reserved 
Published  October,  1903 


UNIVERSITY   PRBSS  •     JOHN   WILSON 
AND      SON     •     CAMBRIDGE,     U.  S.  A. 


To 
"HARTIE" 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I.  MOLASSES  TEA 1 

II.  MRS.  BLOSSOM'S  VALENTINE 7 

III.  A  CURIOUS  CASE 15 

IV.  A  LITTLE  MILLIONAIRE 22 

V.  TRANSPLANTED 36 

VI.  MALACHI 55 

VII.  THE  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  SOCIETY 62 

VIII.  A  LIVELY  CORRESPONDENCE 74 

IX.  THE  PRIZE  CHICKEN 84 

X.  AN  UNEXPECTED  MEETING 98 

XI.  JACK 116 

XII.  RESULTS 127 

XIII.  A  SOCIAL  ADDITION 141 

XIV.  THE  LOST  NATION 150 

XV.  WISHING-TREE  SECRETS 161 

XVI.  A  CHRISTMAS  PRELUDE 166 

XVII.  HUNGER-FORD 178 

XVIII.  BUDD'S  PROPOSAL 204 

XIX.  A  YEAR  AND  A  DAY 215 

XX.  SNOW-BOUND 228 

XXI.  A  LITTLE  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  RICH 239 

XXII.  ROSE       261 

XXIII.  "BEHOLD    HOW    GREAT    A     MATTER    A    LlTTLE    FlRE 

KINDLETH  " 285 

XXIV.  "OLD  PUT" 300 

XXV.  SAN  JUAN 319 

XXVI.  MARIA-ANN'S  CRUSADE 326 

XXVII.  "  —  THE  STARS  ABOVE 

SHINE  EVER  ON  LOVE  —  ".  341 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


HAZEL Frontispiece 

"  '  You  can  begin  to  drop  that  corn  this  very  afternoon  '  "  .    Page  73 
"  Rose  was  at  the  kitchen  table,  patting  out  the  dough 

for  the  rolls" "  118 

"  Hazel  flung  both  arms  around  Mrs.  Blossom's  neck"     .            "  137 

"  'I  want  to  tell  you  why  I  came  up  here '  " "  199 

"  The  two  girls  leaned  over  the  box  as  Hazel  took  off  the 

wrapper " "  288 


A  DAUGHTEE  OF  THE  RICH 


MOLASSES    TEA 

"  GOOD-NIGHT,  Martie,"  called  a  sweet  voice  down  the 
stairway. 

"  Good-night,  Rose  dear ;  I  thought  you  were  asleep." 

"  Good-night,  Martie,"  duetted  the  twins,  in  the  shrillest 
of  treble  and  falsetto. 

"  Good-night,  you  rogues ;  go  to  sleep ;  you  '11  wake 
baby." 

"Dood-night,  mummy,"  chirped  a  little  voice  from  the 
adjoining  room. 

There  was  a  shout  of  laughter  from  the  twins. 

"  Shut  up,"  growled  March  from  the  attic  over  the 
kitchen.  "  Good-night,  mother."  His  growl  ended  in  a 
squeak,  for  March  was  at  that  interesting  period  of  his  life 
indicated  by  a  change  of  voice.  At  the  sound,  a  prolonged 
snicker  from  somewhere  was  answered  by  a  corresponding 
giggle  from  another-where. 

"  Now,  children,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom,  speaking  up  the 
stairway,  "  do  be  quiet,  or  baby  will  be  wide  awake." 

"  Turn  tiss  me,  mummy,"  piped  the  little  voice  a  second 
time,  with  no  sound  of  sleep  in  it. 

i 


2  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Yes,  darling,  I  '11  come ;  "  as  she  turned  to  go  into  the 
bedroom  adjoining  the  kitchen,  there  was  the  sound  of  a 
jump  overhead,  a  patter  of  bare  feet,  a  squabble  on  the 
stairs,  and  Budd  and  Cherry,  the  irrepressible  ten-year-old 
twins,  tumbled  into  the  room. 

"  I  '11  haul  those  kids  back  to  bed  for  you,  mother," 
shouted  March,  and  flung  himself  out  of  bed  to  join  the 
fray,  while  Rose  was  not  behindhand  in  making  her 
appearance. 

Mrs.  Blossom  came  in  with  little  May  in  her  arms,  and 
that  was  the  signal  for  a  wholesale  kissing-party  in  which 
May  was  hostess. 

"  Children,  children,  you  '11  smother  me  !  "  laughed  their 
mother.  "  Here,  sit  down  on  the  rug  and  warm  your  toes, 
—  coming  over  those  bare  stairs  this  cold  night!"  And 
down  they  sat,  Rose  and  March,  Budd  and  Cherry  and 
little  May,  in  thick  white  and  red  flannel  night-dresses 
and  gray  flannel  pajamas. 

Budd  coughed  consumptively,  and  Cherry  followed  suit. 
March  shivered  and  shook  like  a  small  earthquake,  and 
Rose  looked  up  laughingly  at  her  mother. 

"  We  know  what  that  means,  don't  we,  Martie,"  she 
said.  "Shall  I  help?" 

"  No,  no,  dear,  —  in  your  bare  feet !  " 

Mrs.  Blossom  took  a  lamp  from  the  shelf  over  the  fire 
place,  and,  leaving  the  five  with  their  fifty  toes  turned 
and  wriggling  before  the  cheering  warmth  of  the  blazing 
hickory  logs,  disappeared  in  the  pantry. 

"Oh,  bully,"   said  Budd,  rubbing  his  flannel   pajamas 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  3 

just  over  his  stomach ;  "  I  wish  't  was  a  cold  night  every 
day,  then  we  could  have  molasses  tea  all  the  time,  don't 
you,  Cherry?" 

"  Mm,"  said  Cherry,  too  full  of  the  anticipated  treat  for 
articulate  speech. 

"  There  's  nothing  like  it  to  warm  up  your  insides,"  said 
March ;  "  mother 's  a  brick  to  let  us  get  up  for  it.  She 
would  n't,  you  know,  if  father  were  at  home." 

"  My  tummy 's  told,"  piped  May,  frantically  patting  her 
chest  in  imitation  of  Budd,  and  all  the  children  shouted  to 
see  the  wee  four-year-old  maiden  trying  to  manufacture  a 
shiver  in  the  glow  of  the  cheerful  fire. 

Mrs.  Blossom  had  never  told  her  recipe  for  her  "hot 
molasses  tea ;  "  but  it  had  been  famed  in  the  family  for 
more  than  a  generation.  She  had  it  from  her  mother. 
The  treat  was  always  reserved  for  a  bitterly  cold  night,  and 
the  good  things  in  it  of  which  one  had  a  taste  —  molasses, 
white  sugar,  lemon-peel,  butter,  peppermint,  boiled  raisins, 
and  mysterious  unknowns  —  were  compounded  with  hot 
water  into  a  palate-tickling  beverage. 

When  Mrs.  Blossom  reappeared,  with  a  kettle  sending 
forth  a  small  cloud  of  fragrant  steam  in  one  hand  and  a 
tray  filled  with  tin  cups  in  the  other,  the  delighted  "  Ohs  " 
and  "  Ahs  "  repaid  her  for  all  her  extra  work  at  the  close 
of  a  busy,  weary  day. 

Budd  rolled  over  on  the  rug  in  his  ecstasy,  and  Cherry 
was  about  to  roll  on  top  of  him,  when  March  interfered, 
and  order  was  restored. 

As  they  sat  there  on  the  big,  braided  square  of  woollen 


4  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

rag-carpet,  sipping  and  ohing  and  ahing  with  supreme 
satisfaction,  Mrs.  Blossom  broached  the  subject  of 
valentines. 

"  It 's  the  first  of  February,  children,  and  time  to  begin 
to  make  valentines.  You  're  not  going  to  forget  the  Doctor 
this  year,  are  you  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed,  Martie,"  said  Rose.  "  He  deserves  the 
prettiest  we  can  make.  I  've  been  thinking  about  it,  and 
I  'm  going  to  make  him  a  shaving-case,  heart-shaped,  with 
birch-bark  covers,  and  if  March  will  decorate  it  for  me,  I 
think  it  will  be  lovely  ;  will  you,  March  ?  " 

"  Course  I  will ;  the  Doctor  's  a  brick.  I  '11  tell  you 
what,  Martie,  I  can  pen  and  ink  some  of  those  spruces  and 
birches  that  the  Doctor  was  so  fond  of  last  summer ; 
how  '11  that  do  ?  " 

"  Just  the  thing,"  said  his  mother ;  "  I  know  it  will 
please  him.  What  are  you  thinking,  Cherry?"  for  the 
"  other  half  "  of  Budd  was  gazing  dreamily  into  the  fire, 
forgetting  her  tea  in  her  revery. 

"  Fudge  ! "  said  Cherry,  shortly.  March  and  Rose 
laughed. 

"  Keep  still  making  fun  of  Cherry,"  said  Budd,  ruffling 
at  the  sound ;  and  to  emphasize  his  admonishing  words,  he 
dug  his  sharp  elbow  so  suddenly  into  March's  ribs  that 
some  hot  molasses  tea  flew  from  the  cup  which  his  brother 
had  just  put  to  his  mouth  and  spattered  on  his  bare 
feet. 

March  deliberately  set  down  his  tin  cup  on  the  hearth 
near  the  fire  beside  his  brother's,  and  turned  upon  Budd. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  5 

Budd  tried  to  dodge,  but  had  no  room.  In  a  trice,  March 
had  his  arms  around  him,  and  was  hugging  him  in  a  bear- 
like  embrace.  "  Say  you  're  sorry  !  "  he  demanded. 

"  Au-ow  !  " 

"  Say  you  're  sorry  !  "  he  roared  at  him,  hugging  harder. 

"  Au-ow-ee-ow  !  " 

"  Quick,  or  I  '11  squeeze  you  some  more  !  " 

Budd  was  squirming  and  twisting  like  an  eel. 


"  There,"  said  March,  releasing  him  and  setting  him 
down  with  a  thump  on  the  rug  ;  "  I  '11  teach  you  to  poke 
me  in  the  ribs  that  way  and  scald  my  feet.  —  You  're  game, 
though,  old  fellow,"  he  added  patronizingly,  as  he  heard  a 
suspicious  sniff  from  Cherry.  "  You  and  Cherry  make  a 
whole  team  any  day." 

Cherry's  sniff  changed  to  a  smile,  for  March  did  not 
condescend  to  praise  either  of  them  very  often. 

"  Well,"  she  said  meditatively,  "  I  suppose  it  did  sound 
funny  to  say  that,  but  I  was  thinking  that  if  Budd  would 
make  me  a  little  heart-shaped  box  of  birch-bark,  I  'd  make 
some  maple-sugar  fudge,  —  you  know,  Martie,  the  kind  with 
butternuts  in  it,  —  and  that  could  be  my  valentine  for  the 
Doctor." 

"  Why,  that  's  a  bright  idea,  Cherry,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom  ; 
and,  "Bully  for  you,  Cherry,"  said  Budd;  "we'll  begin 
to-morrow  and  crack  the  butternuts." 

"  What  will  May  do  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Blossom,  lifting  the 
little  girl,  who  was  already  showing  signs  of  being  over 
come  with  molasses  tea  and  sleep.  May  nestled  in  her 


6  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

mother's  arms,  leaned  her  head,  running  over  with  golden 
curls,  on  her  mother's  breast,  and  murmured  drowsily,  — 

"  'Ittle  tooties  —  tut  with  mummy's  heart-tutter  —  tutter 
—  tooties  —  tut  —  "  The  blue-veined  eyelids  closed  over 
the  lovely  eyes ;  and  Mrs.  Blossom,  holding  up  her  finger 
to  hush  the  children's  mirth  at  May's  inspired  utterance, 
carried  her  back  into  the  bedroom. 

One  after  another  the  children  crept  noiselessly  upstairs, 
with  a  whispered,  "  Good-night,  Martie,"  and  in  ten  min 
utes  Mary  Blossom  knew  they  were  all  in  the  land  of 
dreams. 


II 

MRS.  BLOSSOM'S  VALENTINE 

IT  was  a  bitter  night.  Mrs.  Blossom  refilled  the  kitchen 
stove,  and  threw  on  more  hickory  in  the  fireplace  in  antici 
pation  of  her  husband's  late  return  from  the  village.  She 
drew  her  little  work-table  nearer  to  the  blaze,  and  sat  down 
to  her  sewing.  Then  she  sighed,  and,  as  she  bent  over  the 
large  willow  basket  filled  with  stockings  to  be  darned  and 
clothes  to  be  mended,  a  tear  rolled  down  her  cheek  and 
plashed  on  the  edge. 

There  was  so  much  she  wanted  to  do  for  her  children  — 
and  so  little  with  which  to  do  it !  There  was  March,  an 
artist  to  his  finger-tips,  who  longed  to  be  an  architect ;  and 
Rose,  lovely  in  her  young  girlhood  and  giving  promise  of 
a  lovelier  womanhood,  who  was  willing  to  work  her  way 
through  one  of  the  lesser  colleges,  if  only  she  could  be  pre 
pared  for  entrance.  Mary  Blossom  saw  no  prospect  of 
being  able  to  do  anything  for  either  of  them. 

And  the  father  1  He  must  be  spared  first,  if  he  were  to 
be  their  future  bread-winner.  Mary  Blossom  could  never 
forget  that  day,  a  year  ago  this  very  month,  when  her  hus 
band  was  brought  home  on  a  stretcher,  hurt,  as  they  thought, 
unto  death,  by  a  tree  falling  the  wrong  way  in  the  woods 
where  he  was  directing  the  choppers. 


8  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

What  a  year  it  had  been !  All  they  had  saved  had  gone 
to  pay  for  the  extra  help  hired  to  carry  on  the  farm  and 
finish  the  log-cutting.  A  surgeon  had  come  from  the 
nearest  city  to  give  his  verdict  in  the  case  and  help  if  he 
could. 

The  farm  was  mortgaged  to  enable  them  to  pay  the  heavy 
bills  incident  to  months  of  sickness  and  medical  attendance ; 
still  the  father  lay  helpless,  and  Mary  Blossom's  faith  and 
courage  were  put  to  their  severest  test,  when  both  doctor 
and  surgeon  pronounced  the  case  hopeless.  He  might  live 
for  years,  they  said,  but  useless,  so  far  as  his  limbs  were 
concerned. 

This  was  in  June ;  and  then  it  was  that  Mary  Blossom, 
leaving  Rose  in  charge  of  her  father  and  the  children,  left 
her  home,  and  walked  bareheaded  rapidly  up  the  slope 
behind  the  house,  across  the  upland  pastures  and  over  into 
the  woodlands,  from  which  they  had  hoped  to  derive  a 
sufficient  income  to  provide  not  only  for  their  necessi 
ties,  but  for  their  children's  education  and  the  comforts 
of  life. 

Deep  into  the  heart  of  them  she  made  her  way ;  and 
there,  in  the  green  silence,  broken  only  by  the  note  of  a 
thrush  and  the  stirring  of  June  leafage  above  and  about 
her,  she  knelt  and  poured  out  her  sorrow-filled  heart  before 
God,  and  cast  upon  Him  the  intolerable  burden  that  had 
rested  so  long  upon  her  soul. 

The  shadows  were  lengthening  when  at  last  she  turned 
homewards.  Cherry  and  Budd  met  her  in  the  pasture,  for 
Rose  had  grown  anxious  and  sent  them  to  find  her. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  9 

"  Why,  where  have  you  been,  Martie  ?  "  exclaimed  the 
twins.  "  We  were  so  frightened  about  you,  because  you 
didn't  come  home." 

"  You  need  n't  have  been ;  I  've  been  talking  with  a 
Friend."  And  more  than  that  she  never  said.  The  chil 
dren's  curiosity  was  roused,  but  when  they  told  Rose  and 
asked  her  what  mother  meant,  Rose's  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
and  she  kept  silence ;  for  she  alone  knew  with  Whom  her 
mother  had  talked  that  June  afternoon. 

"  Run  ahead,  Budd,  and  tell  Malachi  to  harness  up  Bess. 
1  want  him  to  take  a  letter  down  to  the  village  so  that  it 
may  go  on  the  night  mail."  Budd  flew  rather  than  ran ; 
for  there  was  a  look  in  his  mother's  face  that  he  had  never 
seen  before,  and  it  awed  him. 

That  night  a  letter  went  to  Doctor  Heath,  a  famous 
nerve  specialist  of  New  York  City.  It  was  a  letter  from 
Mary  Blossom,  his  old-time  friend  and  schoolmate  in  the 
academy  at  Barton's  River.  In  it  she  asked  him  if  he 
would  give  her  his  advice  in  this  case,  saying  she  could 
not  accept  the  decision  of  the  physician  and  surgeon  unless 
it  should  be  confirmed  by  him. 

"  I  cannot  pay  you  now,"  she  wrote,  "  but  it  was  borne 
in  upon  me  this  afternoon  to  write  to  you,  although  you 
may  have  forgotten  me  in  these  many  years,  and  I  have  no 
claim  of  present  friendship,  even,  upon  your  time  and 
service  ;  but  I  must  heed  the  inner  command  to  appeal  to 
you,  whatever  you  may  think  of  me,  —  if  I  disobeyed  that, 
I  should  be  disobeying  God's  voice  in  my  life,"  —  and 
signed  herself,  "  Yours  in  childhood's  remembrance." 


10  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

The  next  day  a  telegram  was  brought  up  from  the 
village ;  and  the  day  after  the  Doctor  himself  followed  it. 

It  was  an  anxious  week ;  but  the  wonderful  skill  con 
quered.  The  pressure  on  a  certain  nerve  was  removed, 
and  for  the  last  six  months  Benjamin  Blossom  had  been 
slowly  but  surely  coming  back  to  his  old-time  health  and 
strength.  But  again  this  winter  the  extra  help  had  been 
necessary,  and  it  had  taxed  all  Mary  Blossom's  ingenuity 
to  make  both  ends  meet ;  for  there  was  the  interest  on  the 
mortgage  to  be  paid  every  six  months,  and  the  ready  money 
had  to  go  for  that. 

In  the  midst  of  her  thoughts,  her  recollections  and  plans, 
she  caught  the  sound  of  sleigh-bells.  The  tall  clock  was 
just  striking  ten.  Smoothing  every  line  of  care  and  ban 
ishing  all  look  of  sadness  from  her  face,  she  met  her 
husband  with  a  cheery  smile  and  a,  "  I  'm  so  glad  you  've 
got  home,  Ben ;  it 's  just  twenty  below,  and  the  molasses 
tea  is  ready  for  you  and  Chi." 

"  Chi !  "  called  Mr.  Blossom  towards  the  barn. 

"Whoa!"  shouted  a  voice  that  sounded  frosty  in  spite 
of  itself.  "  Whoa,  Bess ! " 

"  Come  into  the  kitchen  before  you  turn  in ;  there 's 
some  hot  molasses  tea  waiting  for  us." 

"  Be  there  in  a  minute,"  he  shouted  back,  and  Bess 
pranced  into  the  barn. 

"  Oh,  Mary,  this  is  good,"  said  Mr.  Blossom,  as  he  slipped 
out  of  his  buffalo-robe  coat  and  into  his  warm  house-jacket, 
dropped  his  boots  outside  in  the  shed,  and  put  on  his 
carpet-slippers  that  had  been  waiting  for  him  on  the  hearth. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  11 

"  It  is  home,  Ben,"  said  his  wife,  bringing  out  clean  tin 
cups  from  the  pantry,  and  putting  them  to  warm  beside 
the  kettle  on  the  hearth. 

"  Yes,  with  you  in  it,  Mary,"  he  said  with  the  smile  that 
had  won  him  his  true-love  eighteen  years  before. 

"  Come  in,  Chi,"  he  called  towards  the  shed,  whence 
came  sounds  as  if  some  one  were  dancing  a  double-shuffle 
in  snow-boots. 

"  'Fraid  I  '11  thaw  V  make  a  puddle  on  the  hearth,  Mis' 
Blossom.  I  'm  as  stiff  as  an  icicle :  guess  I  '11  take  my  tea 
perpendic'lar ;  I  ain't  fit  to  sit  down." 

"  Sit  down,  sit  down,  Chi,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom.  "  You  '11 
enjoy  the  tea  more  ;  and  give  yourself  a  thorough  heating 
before  you  go  to  bed.  I  've  put  the  soapstone  in  it,"  she 
added. 

"  Well,  you  beat  all,  Mis'  Blossom ;  just  as  if  you  did  n't 
find  enough  to  do  for  yourself,  you  go  to  work  'n'  make 
work."  He  broke  off  suddenly,  "George  Washin'ton!" 
he  exclaimed,  "  most  forgot  to  give  you  this  letter  that 
come  on  to-night's  mail." 

He  handed  Mrs.  Blossom  the  letter,  which,  with  some 
difficulty,  owing  to  his  stiffened  fingers,  he  extracted  from 
the  depths  of  the  tail-pocket  of  his  old  overcoat.  Then  he 
helped  himself  to  a  brimming  cup  of  the  tea,  and  appar 
ently  swallowed  its  contents  without  once  taking  breath. 

"  Why,  it 's  from  Doctor  Heath ! "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Blossom,  recognizing  the  handwriting.  "  Is  it  a  valentine, 
I  wonder?"  she  said,  feigning  to  laugh,  for  her  heart  sank 
within  her,  fearing  it  might  be  the  bill,  —  and  yet,  and  yet, 


12  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

the  Doctor  had  said  —  she  got  no  further  with  these 
thoughts,  so  intent  was  she  on  the  contents  of  the  letter. 

Chi,  with  an  eye  to  prolonging  his  stay  till  he  should 
know  the  why  and  wherefore  of  a  letter  from  the  great 
Doctor  at  this  season  of  the  year,  took  another  cup  of 
the  tea. 

"  Ben,  oh,  Ben  ! "  cried  Mrs.  Blossom,  in  a  faint,  glad 
voice ;  and  therewith,  to  her  husband's  amazement,  she 
handed  him  the  letter,  put  both  arms  around  his  neck,  and, 
dropping  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  sobbed  as  if  her  heart 
would  break. 

Chi  softly  put  down  his  half-emptied  cup  and  tiptoed 
with  creaking  boots  from  the  room. 

"  Can't  stand  that,  nohow,"  he  muttered  to  himself  in 
the  shed  ;  and,  forgetting  to  light  his  lantern,  he  felt  his 
way  up  the  backstairs  to  his  lodging  in  the  room  overhead, 
blinded  by  some  suspicious  drops  of  water  in  his  eyes, 
which  he  cursed  for  frost  melting  from  his  bushy  eyebrows. 

"  Oh,  Ben,  think  of  it !  "  she  cried,  when  her  husband 
had  soothed  and  calmed  her.  "  Twenty-five  dollars  a 
week;  that  makes  a  little  more  than  twelve  hundred  a 
year.  Why,  we  can  pay  off  all  the  mortgage  and  be  free 
from  that  nightmare." 

For  answer  her  husband  drew  her  closer  to  him,  and  late 
into  the  night  they  sat  before  the  dying  fire,  talking  and 
planning  for  the  future. 

"  Children,"  she  said  at  breakfast  next  morning,  and  her 
voice  sounded  so  bright  and  cheery  that  the  room  seemed 
full  of  sunshine,  although  the  sky  was  a  hard,  cold  gray, 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  13 

"  I  've  had  one  valentine  already ;  it  came  last  night  from 
the  Doctor." 

Chi  listened  with  all  his  ears. 

"Mother!"  burst  from  the  children,  "where  is  it?" 
"  Show  it  to  us."  "  Why  did  n't  you  tell  us  before 
breakfast?" 

"  I  can't  show  it  to  you  yet ;   it 's  a  live  one." 

"  A  live  one  !  "  chorussed  the  children. 

"  You  're  fooling  us,  mother,"  said  March. 

"  Do  I  look  as  if  I  were  ?  "  replied  his  mother. 

And  March  was  obliged  to  confess  that  she  had  never 
looked  more  in  earnest. 

Rose  left  her  seat  and  stole  to  her  father's  side.  "  What 
does  it  mean,  pater?  "  she  whispered. 

"  Ask  your  mother,"  was  all  the  satisfaction  she  received, 
and  walked,  crestfallen,  back  to  her  chair ;  for  when  had 
her  father  refused  her  anything  ? 

"  When  will  you  tell  us,  anyway  ?  "  said  Budd,  a  little 
gruffly.  He  hated  a  secret. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  that  either,"  said  his  mother,  "  and  I 
don't  know  that  I  shall  tell  you  until  the  very  last,  if  you 
ask  in  that  voice." 

Budd  screwed  his  mouth  into  a  smile,  and,  unbeknown 
to  the  rest  of  the  family,  reached  under  the  cloth  for  his 
mother's  hand.  He  sat  next  to  her,  and  that  had  been  his 
way  of  saying  "Forgive  me,"  ever  since  he  was  a  tiny  boy. 

He  had  a  squeeze  in  return  and  felt  happier. 

"  I  say,  let 's  guess,"  said  Cherry.  "  If  I  don't  do  some 
thing,  I  shall  burst. " 


14  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  You  express  my  feelings  perfectly,  Cherry,"  said  March, 
gravely,  and  the  guessing  began. 

"  A  St.  Bernard  puppy  ?  "  said  Budd,  who  coveted  one. 

"  A  Shetland  pony,"  said  Cherry. 

"  The  Doctor 's  coming  up  here,  himself."  That  was 
Rose's  guess. 

"  'T  ain't  likely,"  growled  Budd. 

"  A  tunning  'ittle  baby,"  chirped  May. 

March  failed  to  think  of  any  live  thing  the  Doctor  was 
likely  to  send  unless  it  might  be  a  Wyandotte  blood-rooster, 
such  as  he  and  the  Doctor  had  talked  about  last  summer. 

"  You  're  all  cold,  cold  as  ice,"  laughed  their  mother, 
using  the  words  of  the  game  she  had  so  often  played  with 
them  when  they  were  younger. 

"Oh,  mother!"  they  protested.  They  were  almost 
indignant. 

Chi  rose  and  left  the  table.  "  Beats  me,"  he  muttered, 
as  he  took  down  his  axe  from  a  beam  in  the  woodshed. 
"  What  in  thunder  can  it  be  ?  I  ain't  goin'  to  ask  ques 
tions,  but  I  '11  ferret  it  out,  —  by  George  Washin'ton  ;  " 
and  that  was  Chi's  most  solemn  oath. 


Ill 


A   CURIOUS  CASE 

"  WHAT  is  it,  dear  ?  " 

"  Bothered—  bothered." 

" A  case?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  must  get  it  off  my  mind  this  evening." 

The  Doctor  set  down  his  after-dinner  coffee  untasted  on 
the  library  table,  and  rose  with  a  half  sigh  from  his  easy 
chair  before  the  blazing  wood-fire.  His  heavy  eyebrows 
were  drawn  together  into  a  straight  line  over  the  bridge  of 
his  nose,  and  that,  his  wife  knew  full  well,  was  an  ominous 
sign. 

"  Must  you  go  to-night  ?  It 's  such  a  fearful  storm ; 
just  hear  it !  " 

"Yes,  I  must;  just  to  get  it  off  my  mind.  I  sha'n't  be 
gone  long,  and  I  '11  tell  you  all  about  it  when  I  get  home." 
The  Doctor  stooped  and  kissed  the  detaining  hand  that  his 
wife  had  laid  lovingly  on  his  arm ;  then,  turning  to  the 
telephone,  he  bespoke  a  cab. 

As  the  vehicle  made  its  way  up  Fifth  Avenue  in  the  teeth 
of  a  February,  northeast  gale  that  drove  the  sleet  rattling 
against  the  windows,  Doctor  Heath  settled  back  farther 
into  his  corner,  growling  to  himself,  "I  wish  some  people 
would  let  me  manage  their  affairs  for  them ;  it  would 


16  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

show  their  common  sense  to  let  me  show  them  some  of 
mine." 

A  few  blocks  north  of  the  park  entrance,  the  cab  turned 
east  into  a  side  street,  and  stopped  at  Number  4. 

"Mr.    Clyde   in,    Wilkins?"  asked   the  Doctor  of   the 
colored  butler,  who  opened  the  door. 

"  Yes,  sah ;  jes'  up  from  dinner,  sah,  to  see  Miss  Hazel." 
"  Tell  him  I  want  to  see  him  in  the  library." 
"  Yes,  sah."     He  took  the  Doctor's  cloak  and  hat,  hesi 
tating  a  moment  before  leaving,  then  turning,  said :  "  'Scuse 
me,  sah,  but  Miss  Hazel  ain't  more  discomposed?  " 
"  No,  no,  Wilkins ;  Miss  Hazel  is  doing  fairly  well." 
"  Thank  you,  sah  ;  "  and  Wilkins  ducked  his  head  and 
sprang  upstairs. 

"  Why,  Dick,"  said  Mr.  Clyde,  as  he  entered  the  library 
hurriedly,  "  what 's  wrong  ?  " 

"  The  world  in  general,  Johnny,  and  your  world  in  par 
ticular,  old  fellow." 

"  Is  Hazel  worse  ? "  The  father's  anxiety  could  be 
heard  in  the  tone  with  which  he  put  the  question. 
"  I  'm  not  satisfied,  John,  and  I  'm  bothered." 
When  Doctor  Heath  called  his  friend  "John,"  Mr.  Clyde 
knew  that  the  very  soul  of  him  was  heavily  burdened. 
The  two  had  been  chums  at  Yale :  the  one  a  rich  man's 
son ;  the  other  a  country  doctor's  one  boy,  to  whom  had 
been  bequeathed  only  a  name  honored  in  every  county  of 
his  native  state,  a  good  constitution,  and  an  ambition  to 
follow  his  father's  profession.  The  boy  had  become  one  of 
the  leading  physicians  of  the  great  city  in  Avhich  he  made 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  17 

his  home ;  his  friend  one  of  the  most  sought-after  men  in 
the  whirling  gayeties  of  the  great  metropolis.  As  he  stood 
on  the  hearth  with  his  back  to  the  mantel  waiting  for  the 
physician's  next  word,  he  was  typical  of  the  best  culture  of 
the  city,  and  the  Doctor  looked  up  into  the  fine  face  with 
a  deep  affection  visible  in  his  eyes. 

"  Going  out,  as  usual,  John?" 

"  Only  to  the  Pearsells'  reception.  Don't  keep  me  wait 
ing,  old  fellow  ;  speak  up." 

"  How  the  deuce  am  I  to  make  things  plain  to  you, 
John  ?  Here,  draw  up  your  chair  a  little  nearer  mine,  as 
you  used  in  college  when  you  knew  I  had  a  four  A.  M. 
lecture  awaiting  you,  after  one  of  your  larks." 

The  two  men  helped  themselves  to  cigars;  and  the 
Doctor,  resting  his  head  on  the  back  of  the  chair,  slowly 
let  forth  the  smoke  in  curling  rings,  and  watched  them 
dissolve  and  disperse. 

"  Come,  Dick,  go  ahead  ;  I  can  stand  it  if  you  can." 

"  Well,  then,  I  've  done  all  I  can  for  Hazel,  and  shall 
have  to  give  up  the  case  unless  you  do  all  you  can  for 
her." 

Now  the  Doctor  had  not  intended  to  make  his  statement 
in  such  a  blunt  fashion,  and  he  could  not  blame  Mr.  Clyde 
for  the  touch  of  resentment  that  was  so  quick  to  show  in 
his  answer. 

"  I  did  n't  suppose  you  went  back  on  your  patients  in 
this  way,  Richard  ;  much  less  on  a  friend.  I  have  done 
everything  I  can  for  Hazel.  If  there  is  anything  I've 
omitted,  just  tell  me,  and  I  '11  try  to  make  it  good." 

2 


18  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

The  Doctor  nodded  penitently.  "  I  know,  John,  I  've 
said  it  badly ;  and  I  don't  know  but  that  I  shall  make  it 
worse  by  saying  you  've  done  too  much." 

"  Too  much  !  That  is  not  possible.  Did  n't  you  order 
last  year's  trip  to  Florida  and  the  summer  yachting 
cruise  ?  " 

Doctor  Heath  groaned.  "I'm  getting  in  deeper  and 
deeper,  John ;  you  can't  understand,  because  you  are  you ; 
born  and  bred  as  you  are  —  Look  here,  John,  did  it  ever 
occur  to  you  that  Hazel  is  a  little  hot-house  plant  that 
needs  hardening  ?  " 

"  No,  Richard." 

"  Well,  she  is ;  she  needs  hardening  to  make  her  any 
kind  of  a  woman  physically  and,  and  —  The  Doctor 
stopped  short.  There  were  some  things  of  which  he 
rarely  spoke. 

"  My  Hazel  needs  hardening !  "  exclaimed  the  amazed 
father.  "  Why,  Richard,  have  n't  you  impressed  upon  me 
again  and  again  that  she  needs  the  greatest  care  ?  " 

The  Doctor  groaned  again  and  smote  his  friend  solidly 
on  the  knee. 

"  Oh,  you  poor  rich  —  you  poor  rich  !  '  Eyes  have  ye, 
and  ye  see  not ;  ears  have  ye,  and  hear  not.'  John,  the 
girl  must  go  away  from  you,  who  over-indulge  her,  from 
this  home-nest  of  luxury,  from  this  private-school  business 
and  dancing-class  dissipation,  from  her  young-grown-up 
lunch-parties  and  matinee-parties,  from  her  violin  lessons 
and  her  indoor  gymnastics  —  curse  them  !  " 

This  was   a  great  deal   for  the   usually  self-contained 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  19 

physician,  and  Mr.  Clyde  stared  at  him,  but  half  com 
prehending. 

"  Go  away  ?  Do  you  mean,  Richard,  that  she  must 
leave  me?  " 

"  Yes,  I  mean  just  that." 

"Well," --it  was  a  long-drawn,  thinking  "well,"  — 
"  I  will  ask  my  sister  to  take  her  this  summer.  She  re 
turns  from  Egypt  soon  and  has  just  written  me  she  intends 
to  open  her  place,  '  The  Wyndes,'  in  June." 

Again  the  Doctor  groaned :  "  And  kill  her  with  golf 
and  picnics  and  coaching  among  all  those  fashionable 
butterflies  !  Now,  hear  to  me,  John,"  he  laid  his  hand  on 
his  friend's  shoulder,  "  send  her  away  into  the  country, 
that  is  country,  —  something,  by  the  way,  which  you 
know  precious  little  about.  Let  me  find  her  a  place  up 
among  those  life-giving  Green  Hills,  and  do  you  do  with 
out  her  for  one  year.  Let  me  prescribe  for  her  there; 
and  I  '11  guarantee  she  returns  to  you  hale  and  hearty. 
Trust  her  to  me,  John  ;  you  '11  thank  me  in  the  end.  I 
can  do  no  more  for  her  here." 

"  Do  you  mean,  Richard,  to  put  her  away  into  real 
country  conditions?  " 

"  Yes,  just  that ;  into  a  farmer's  family,  if  possible,  — 
and  I  know  I  can  make  it  possible,  —  and  let  her  be  as 
one  of  them,  work,  play,  go  barefoot,  eat,  sleep,  be  merry 
—  in  fact,  be  what  the  Lord  intended  her  to  be  ;  and  you  '11 
find  out  that  is  something  very  different  from  what  she  is, 
if  only  you  '11  hear  to  me." 

The    Doctor  was    pacing   the  room  in   his  earnestness. 


20  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

He  was  not  accustomed  to  beg  thus  to  be  allowed  to  pre 
scribe  for  his  patients.  His  one  word  was  law,  and  he 
was  not  required  to  explain  his  motives. 

Mr.  Clyde's  eyes  followed  him ;  then  he  broke  the  pro 
longed  silence. 

"  Richard,  you  have  asked  me  the  one  thing  to  which 
her  mother  would  never  have  consented.  How,  then, 
can  I?" 

"  Think  it  over,  John,  and  let  me  know." 

The  two  men  clasped  hands. 

"  Let  me  take  you  along  in  my  cab  to  the  recep 
tion  ;  it 's  inhuman  to  take  out  your  horses  on  such  a 
night." 

"  Thank  you,  no ;  I  think  I  '11  give  it  up ;  I  'm  not  in 
the  mood  for  it.  Good-night,  old  fellow." 

"  Good-night,  Johnny." 

The  next  morning,  at  breakfast,  the  Doctor  took  up  a 
note  that  lay  beside  his  plate,  and  after  reading  it 
beamed  joyously  while  he  stirred  his  coffee  vigorously 
without  drinking  it.  When,  finally,  he  looked  up,  his 
wife  elevated  her  eyebrows  over  the  top  of  the  coffee  urn, 
and  the  Doctor  laughed. 

"  To  be  sure,  wifie,  read  the  note."  And  this  is  what 
she  read  :  — 

DEAR  RICHARD,  —  I  've  had  a  hard  night,  trying  to  look  at 
things  from  your  point  of  view  and  see  rny  own  duty  towards 
Hazel.  Things  have  grown  rather  misty,  looking  both  back 
wards  and  forwards,  and  I  have  concluded  J  can't  do  better 
than  to  take  you  at  your  word,  —  trust  her  to  you,  and  accept 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  21 

the  guarantee  of  her  return  to  me  with  her  physical  condition 
such  as  it  should  be. 

This  decision  will,  as  you  well  know,  raise  a  storm  of  protest 
among  the  relations.  The  whole  swarm  will  be  about  my 
ears  in  less  than  no  time.  Stand  by  me.  The  whole  re 
sponsibility  rests  upon  you,  —  and  tell  Hazel ;  I  'm  too  much 
of  a  coward.  This  is  a  confession,  but  you  will  understand. 
Let  me  know  the  details  of  your  plans  so  soon  as  possible. 
I  have  never  been  able  to  give  you  such  a  proof  of  friendship. 
Have  you  ever  asked  another  man  for  such  ?  I  mistrust  you, 
old  fellow.  Yours, 

JOHN. 


IV 


"  GABRIELLE." 

"  Oui,  mademoiselle  Hazel,"  came  in  shrill  yet  muffled 
tones  from  the  depths  of  the  dressing-room  closet. 

"  Bring  me  my  white  silk  kimono." 

"  Oui,  mademoiselle." 

The  order,  in  French,  was  given  in  a  weak  and  slightly 
fretful  voice  that  issued  from  the  bed  at  the  farther  end  of 
a  large  room  from  which  the  dressing-room  opened.  The 
apartment  was,  in  truth,  what  Doctor  Heath  had  called  it, 
"  a  nest  of  luxury." 

It  was  a  bitter  Saint  Valentine's  Day  which  succeeded  the 
Doctor's  evening  visit.  The  wood-fire,  blazing  cheerily  in 
the  ample  fireplace,  sent  its  warmth  and  light  far  out  into 
the  room,  flashing  red  reflections  in  the  curiously  twisted 
bars  of  the  brass  bedstead.  At  the  left  of  the  fireplace 
stood  a  small  round  tea-table,  and  upon  it  a  little  silver 
tea-kettle  on  a  standard  of  the  same  metal.  Dainty  cups 
and  saucers  of  egg-shell  china  were  grouped  about  it;  a 
miniature  silver  tray  held  a  sugar-dish  and  a  cream-pot 
and  a  half-dozen  gold-lined  souvenir  spoons. 

On  the  richly  carved  mantel  stood  an  exquisite  plate- 
glass  clock,  the  chimes  of  which  were  just  striking  nine, 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  23 

and,  keeping  it  company  to  right  and  left,  were  two  dainty 
figures  of  a  shepherd  and  shepherdess  in  Dresden  china. 
The  remaining  mantel  space  was  filled  with  tiny  figures 
in  bisque,  —  a  dachshund,  a  cat  and  kittens,  a  porcelain 
box,  heart-shaped,  the  top  covered  with  china  forget-me- 
nots,  a  silver  drinking-cup,  a  small  oval  portrait  on  ivory 
of  a  beautiful  young  woman,  framed  in  richly  chased  gold, 
the  inner  rim  set  round  with  pearls.  A  blue  pitcher  of 
Cloisonne'  and  a  tray  of  filigree  silver  heaped  with  dainty 
cotillion  favors  stood  on  one  end ;  on  the  other,  a  crystal 
vase  filled  with  white  tulips. 

Soft  blue  and  white  Japanese  rugs  lay  upon  the  polished 
floor ;  delicate  blue  and  white  draperies  hung  at  the  win 
dows.  Dressing-case  and  writing-desk  of  white  curled 
maple  were  each  laden  with  articles  for  the  toilet  and  for 
writing,  in  solid  silver,  engraved  with  the  monogram  H.  C. 
A  couch,  upholstered  in  blue  and  white  Japanese  silk,  stood 
at  the  right  of  the  fireplace,  and  all  about  the  room  were 
dainty  wicker  chairs  enamelled  in  white,  and  cushioned  to 
match  the  hangings. 

The  bed  was  canopied  in  pale  blue  covered  with  white 
net  and  edged  with  lace,  and  the  coverlet  was  of  silk  of 
the  same  delicate  color,  embroidered  with  white  violets 
and  edged  like  the  canopy,  only  with  a  deeper  frill  of  lace. 
The  occupant  of  this  couch,  fit  for  a  princess  royal,  was 
the  little  mistress  of  all  she  surveyed,  as  well  as  the  man 
sion  of  which  the  room  formed  a  small  part ;  and  a  woe 
begone-looking  little  girl  she  was,  who  called  again,  and 
this  time  impatiently :  — 


24  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Gabrielle,  hurry,  do." 

"  Oui,  oui,  mademoiselle  Hazel ;  "  and  Gabrielle  tripped 
across  the  room  with  the  white  kimono  in  one  hand  and 
fresh  towels  in  the  other.  She  had  just  slipped  it  upon 
Hazel  when  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  Gabrielle 
opened  it,  and  Wilkins  asked  in  a  voice  intended  to  be 
low,  but  which  proved  only  husky :  — 

"  Nuss  say  she  mus'  jes'  speak  wif  Marse  Clyde  'fo'  she 
come  up,  an'  wan's  to  know  if  Miss  Hazel  will  haf  her 
breffus  now  or  wait  till  she  come  up  herse'f." 

Before  Gabrielle  could  answer,  Hazel  called  out,  "  You 
may  bring  it  up  now,  Wilkins ;  and  has  the  postman  come 
yet?" 

Wilkins'  broad  smile  sounded  in  his  voice,  as  it  came  out 
of  its  huskiness. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Hazel,  ben  jes'  'fo'  I  come  up.  I  ain't  seen 
no  hearts,  but  dey's  thicker 'n  spatter  by  de  feel,  an'  a 
heap  o'  boxes  by  'spress  !  " 

"  Oh,  bring  them  up  quick,  Wilkins,  and  tell  papa  to  be 
sure  and  come  up  directly  after  breakfast." 

"  Yes,  for  sho',  Miss  Hazel,"  said  Wilkins,  delighted 
to  have  a  word  with  the  little  daughter  of  her  whom 
he  had  carried  in  his  arms  thirty-two  years  ago  up  and 
down  the  jasmine-covered  porch  of  an  old  New  Orleans 
mansion. 

In  a  few  minutes,  he  reappeared  with  two  large  silver 
trays,  on  one  of  which  was  the  tempting  breakfast  of 
Hamburg  grapes,  a  dropped  egg,  a  slice  of  golden-brown 
toast,  half  of  a  squab  broiled  to  the  melting-point,  and  a 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  25 

cup  of  cocoa.  On  the  other  were  boxes  large  and  small, 
and  white  envelopes  of  all  sizes. 

Gabrielle  cut  the  string  and  opened  the  boxes,  while 
Hazel  looked  on,  pleased  to  be  remembered,  but  finding 
nothing  unusual  in  the  display ;  for  Christmas  and  Easter 
and  birthdays  and  parties  brought  just  about  the  same 
collection,  minus  "  the  hearts,"  which  Wilkins  had  felt 
through  the  covers.  The  only  fun,  after  all,  was  in  the 
guessing. 

Just  then  Mr.  Clyde  entered. 

"  Oh,  papa !  I  'in  so  glad  you  have  come ;  it 's  no  fun 
guessing  alone."  She  put  up  her  peaked,  sallow  little 
face  for  the  good-morning  kiss ;  and  her  father,  with  the 
thought  of  his  last  night's  struggle,  took  the  face  in  both 
hands  and  kissed  brow  and  mouth  with  unusual  tenderness. 

"  Why,  papa ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  that  kiss  is  my  best 
valentine ;  you  never  kissed  me  that  way  before." 

"  Well,  it 's  time  I  began,  Birdie ;  let 's  see  what  you 
have  for  nonsense  here.  What 's  this  —  from  Cambridge  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that 's  Jack,  I  'm  sure ;  he  always  sends  me  violets  ; 
but  what  is  that  in  the  middle  of  the  bunch  ? "  With  a 
smile  she  drew  out  a  tiny  vignette  of  her  Harvard  Sopho 
more  cousin.  It  was  framed  in  a  little  gold  heart,  and  on 
a  slip  of  paper  was  written,  "  For  thee,  I  'm  all  'art." 

"  Jack  's  a  gay  deceiver,"  laughed  her  father ;  "  he  's  all 
'  'art '  for  a  good  many  girls,  big  and  little.  What 's  this  ? 
-and  this?" 

One  after  another  he  took  out  the  contents  of  envelopes 
and  boxes,  —  candy  hearts  by  the  pound  in  silver  bonbon 


26  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

boxes,  silk  hearts,  paper  hearts,  a  flower  heart  of  real  roses 
("  That 's  from  you,  Papa  Clyde !  "  she  exclaimed,  and  her 
father  did  not  deny  the  pleasant  accusation),  hollow  gilt 
hearts  stuffed  with  sentiments,  a  silver  chatelaine  heart  for 
change,  and  last,  but  not  least,  an  enormous  envelope,  a 
foot  square,  containing  a  white  paper  heart  all  written  over 
with  "  sentiments  "  from  the  girls  in  her  class  at  school. 

"  Come  now,  Birdie,"  said  her  father,  after  the  last  one 
had  been  opened  and  guessed  over,  "  eat  your  breakfast,  or 
nurse  will  scold  us  both  for  putting  play  before  business." 

"  I  don't  think  I  want  any,  papa,"  said  Hazel,  languidly, 
for,  after  all,  the  valentines  had  proved  to  be  almost  too 
much  excitement  for  the  little  girl,  who  was  just  recover 
ing  from  weeks  of  slow  fever ;  "  and,  Gabrielle,  take  the 
flowers  away,  they  make  my  head  ache,  —  and  the  other 
things,  too,"  she  added,  turning  her  head  wearily  on  the 
pillow. 

"  But  you  must  eat,  Hazel  dear,"  said  her  father,  gently 
but  firmly ;  and  therewith  he  took  a  grape  and  squeezed 
the  pulp  between  her  lips.  Hazel  laughed,  —  a  faint 
sound. 

"  Why,  papa,  if  you  feed  me  that  way,  I  shall  be  a  real 
Birdie.  Yes,"  she  nodded,  "  that 's  good ;  I  '11  take 
another;"  and  her  father  proceeded  to  feed  her  slowly, 
now  coaxing,  now  urging,  then  commanding,  till  a  few 
grapes  and  a  half  egg  were  disposed  of. 

"  There,  now,  I  won't  play  tyrant  any  longer,"  he  said, 
"for  your  real  tyrant  of  a  doctor  is  coming  soon,  and  I 
must  be  out  of  the  way." 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  27 

"Are  you  going  to  be  at  home  for  luncheon  to-day, 
papa  ?  " 

"  No,  dear,  I  've  promised  to  go  out  to  Tuxedo  with  the 
Masons,  but  I  shall  be  at  home  before  dinner,  just  to  look 
in  upon  you.  I  dine  with  the  Pearsells  afterwards. 
Good-bye."  A  kiss,  —  two,  three  of  them  ;  and  the  merry, 
handsome  young  father,  still  but  thirty-seven,  had  gone, 
and  with  him  much  of  the  brightness  of  Hazel's  day. 

But  she  was  used  to  this.  Ever  since  she  could  remem 
ber  anything,  she  had  been  petted  and  kissed  and  —  left 
with  her  nurse,  her  governess,  or  a  French  maid. 

Her  young  mother,  a  Southern  belle,  lived  more  out  of 
her  home  than  in  it,  with  the  round  of  gayeties  in  the 
winter  months  interrupted  and  continued  by  winter  house- 
parties  at  Lenox,  a  yachting  cruise  in  the  Mediterranean, 
an  early  spring-flitting  to  the  mountains  of  North  Carolina, 
and  the  later  household  moving  to  Newport. 

In  all  these  migrations  Hazel  accompanied  her  parents  ; 
in  fact,  was  moved  about  as  so  much  goods  and  chattels, 
from  New  York  to  the  Berkshires,  from  the  Berkshires  to 
Malta,  from  Malta  to  the  Great  Smokies,  from  the  moun 
tains  to  the  sea  ;  her  appurtenances,  the  governess  and 
French  maid,  went  with  her ;  and  the  routine  of  her  home 
in  New  York,  the  study,  the  promenade,  the  all-alone 
breakfasts  and  dinners  went  on  with  the  regularity  of 
clockwork,  whether  on  the  yacht,  in  the  mountains,  or  in 
the  villa  on  the  Cliff. 

So  now,  although  she  wished  her  father  would  stay  and 
entertain  her,  it  never  occurred  to  her  to  tell  him  so ;  and 


28  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

likewise  it  never  occurred  to  the  father  that  his  child 
needed  or  wished  him  to  stay.  Nor  had  it  ever  occurred 
to  the  young  mother  that  she  was  not  doing  her  whole 
duty  by  her  child ;  for  she  never  omitted  to  go  upstairs 
and  kiss  her  little  daughter  good-night,  whether  the  child 
was  awake  or  asleep,  before  going  out  to  dinner,  theatre, 
or  reception. 

She  died  when  Hazel  was  nine,  and  it  was  a  lovely 
memory  of  "mamma"  that  Hazel  cherished:  a  vision  of 
loveliness  in  trailing  white  silk,  or  velvet,  or  lace,  —  her 
mother  always  wore  white,  it  was  her  Southern  inheritance, 
-  with  a  single  dark-red  rose  among  the  folds  of  Vene 
tian  point  of  the  bertha ;  always  a  gleam  of  white  neck 
and  arms  banded  with  flashing,  many-faceted  diamonds, 
or  roped  with  pearls ;  always  a  sense  of  delicious  white 
warmth  and  fragrance,  as  the  vision  bent  over  her  and 
pressed  a  light  kiss  upon  her  cheek.  And  if,  in  her  bliss, 
she  opened  her  sleepy  eyes,  she  looked  always  into  laugh 
ing  brown  depths,  and  putting  up  her  hand  caressed 
shining  masses  of  brown  hair. 

But  it  was  always  a  good-night  vision.  In  the  morning 
mamma  did  not  breakfast  until  ten,  and  Hazel  was  off  to 
the  little  private  school  at  half-past  nine.  At  noon 
mamma  was  either  out  at  lunch  or  giving  a  lunch-party ; 
and  in  the  afternoon  there  was  the  promenade  in  the 
Park  with  the  governess,  and  sometimes,  as  a  treat,  a  drive 
with  mamma  on  her  round  of  calls,  when  Hazel  and  the 
maid  sat  among  the  furs  in  the  carriage.  Then  Hazel 
played  at  being  grown  up,  and  longed  for  the  time  when 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  29 

she  could  wear  a  reception  dress  like  mamma's,  of  white 
broadcloth  and  sable,  and  trip  up  the  steps  of  the  various 
houses,  and  trip  down  again  with  a  bevy  of  young  girls 
laughing  and  chatting  so  merrily. 

All  that  had  ceased  when  Hazel  was  nine,  and  the 
young  father  had  made  her  mistress  in  her  mother's  place. 
It  was  such  a  great  house !  and  there  were  so  many  ser 
vants  !  and  the  housekeeper  was  so  strict !  and  it  was  so 
queer  to  sit  at  the  round  table  in  the  big  dining-room  and 
try  to  look  at  papa  over  the  silver  dpergne  in  the  centre ! 

When  she  was  eleven,  she  entered  one  of  the  large 
private  schools  which  many  of  her  little  mates  attended. 
Soon  it  came  to  be  the  "girls  of  our  set"  with  Hazel; 
and  then  there  followed  music-lessons,  and  violin-lessons, 
and  riding-lessons,  and  dancing-class,  and  riding-days  in 
the  Park,  and  lunch-parties  with  the  girls,  and  theatre- 
matine'e-parties,  and  concerts  at  Carnegie  Hall,  and  birth 
day  parties,  and  sales  —  school  and  drawing-room  affairs 
—  and  Lenten  sewing-classes ;  until  gradually  her  little 
society  life  had  become  an  epitome  of  her  mother's,  and 
when  she  began  to  shoot  up  like  a  bean-sprout,  lose 
her  round  face  and  the  delicate  pink  from  her  cheeks, 
uncles  and  aunt  and  cousin  and  friends  whispered  of  her 
mother's  frail  constitution,  and  that  it  was  time  to  take 
heed. 

Then  it  was  that  the  physician,  who  had  helped  to  bring 
her  into  the  world,  was  summoned  hastily  to  prevent  her 
early  departure  from  it.  This  was  the  "  curious  case  " 
that  so  bothered  him :  and  this  pale,  languid  girl  of  thir- 


30  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

teen  in  the  blue-canopied  bed  was  the  one  he  intended  to 
transplant  into  another  soil. 

A  short,  sharp  tap  announced  his  arrival.  The  nurse 
opened  the  door. 

"  Good-morning,  little  girl  —  ah,  ah  !  Saint  Valentine's 
Day?  I  had  forgotten  it ;  all  those  came  this  morning?" 
he  said  cheerily,  pointing  to  a  table  on  which  Gabrielle 
had  placed  all  the  remembrances  but  the  flowers. 

"  Yes,  Doctor  Heath  ;  but  my  best  valentine,  you  know, 
is  papa,  and  after  him,  you." 

"  Hm,  flatterer ! "  growled  the  Doctor,  feeling  her  pulse. 
"  Pretty  good,  pretty  good.  Think  we  can  get  you  up 
for  half  a  day.  What  do  you  say,  nurse  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  will  do  her  good,  Doctor  Heath ;  she  has  no 
appetite  yet,  and  a  little  exercise  might  help  her  to  it." 

"  No  appetite  ?  "  The  two  eyebrows  drew  together  in  a 
straight  line  over  the  bridge  of  his  nose,  and,  from  under 
them,  a  pair  of  keen  eyes  looked  at  Hazel. 

"  Well,  I  've  planned  something  that  will  give  you  a 
splendid  one,  Hazel,  —  the  best  kind  of  a  tonic  — 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  take  any  more  tonics.  I  am  so 
sick  of  them,"  said  Hazel,  in  a  despairing  tone,  for  although 
she  adored  the  Doctor,  she  despised  his  medicines. 

"  You  won't  get  sick  of  this  tonic  so  soon,  I  '11  war 
rant,"  he  said,  unbending  his  brows  and  letting  the  full 
twinkle  of  his  fine  eyes  shine  forth,  —  "  at  least  not  after 
you  are  used  to  it.  I  won't  say  but  that  it  may  cause 
a  certain  kind  of  sickness  at  first ;  in  fact,  I  'm  sure 
of  it." 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  31 

"  Oh,  will  it  nauseate  me  ? "  cried  Hazel,  dreading  to 
suffer  any  more. 

"  No,  no,  it  won't  do  that,  but  —  " 

"  But  what  do  you  mean,  Doctor  Heath  ?  Are  you 
joking?" 

"Never  was  more  in  earnest  in  my  life,"  replied  the 
Doctor,  rubbing  his  hands  in  glee,  much  to  Hazel's  amaze 
ment.  "  Hazel,"  he  turned  abruptly  to  her,  "  papa  is  a 
splendid  fellow;  did  you  know  that?" 

Hazel  laughed  aloud,  a  real  girl's  laugh,  —  Doctor  Heath 
was  so  queer  at  times. 

"Have  you  just  found  that  out?  "  she  retorted. 

"  No,  you  witch,  —  don't  be  impertinent  to  your  elders, 
—  I  have  n't ;  but  really  he  is,  take  it  all  in  all,  just  about 
the  most  common-sense  fellow  in  New  York  City." 

"  What  has  he  done  now,  that  you  are  praising  him  so?" 

"  Just  heard  to  me,  my  dear,  and  agreed  to  do  just  as  I 
want  him  to,"  said  the  Doctor,  demurely. 

"  Why,"  laughed  Hazel,  "  that 's  just  when  I  think  he  is 
a  most  splendid  fellow,  when  he  does  just  what  I  want  him 
to.  Is  n't  it  funny  you  and  I  think  just  alike  !  "  And  she 
gave  his  hand  a  malicious  little  pat.  The  Doctor  caught 
the  five  slender  digits  and  held  them  fast. 

"  Now  we  're  agreed  that  you  have  the  most  splendid, 
common-sense  father  in  the  world,  I  want  you  to  prove  to 
me  that  your  father  has  the  most  splendid,  common-sense 
daughter  in  it,  as  well." 

Again  Hazel  laughed.  She  was  used  to  her  friend's 
ways. 


32  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  That  means  that  you  want  rne  to  take  that  old,  new 
tonic  of  yours." 

"  Yes,  just  that,"  said  the  Doctor,  emphatically ;  "  and 
now,  as  you  don't  appear  to  care  to  hear  about  it,  I  'ni  going 
to  make  a  long  call  and  tell  you  its  entire  history." 

"Have  you  brought  it  with  you ?"  asked  Hazel,  some 
what  mystified. 

"  No,  I  can't  carry  around  with  me  in  a  cab  five  children, 
a  hundred  acres  of  pine  woods,  a  whole  mountain-top,  and 
a  few  Jersey  cows." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?     You  are  joking." 

Then  the  physician  clasped  the  thin  hand  a  little  more 
closely  and  told  her  of  the  country  plan. 

At  first,  Hazel  failed  to  comprehend  it.  She  gazed  at 
the  speaker  with  large,  serious  eyes,  as  if  she  half-feared 
he  had  taken  leave  of  his  senses. 

"  Did  papa  know  it  this  morning  ?  "  was  her  first  question. 

"  Yes,  my  dear." 

"  Then  that  is  why  he  kissed  me  the  way  he  did,"  she 
said  thoughtfully.  "  But,"  her  lip  quivered,  "  I  sha'n't 
have  him  to  kiss  me  up  there,  and  —  and  —  oh,  dear !  "  A 
wail  went  up  from  the  canopied  bed  that  made  the  Doctor 
turn  sick  at  heart,  and  even  the  nurse  hurried  away  into 
the  dressing-room. 

Somehow  Doctor  Heath  could  not  exhort  Hazel,  as  he 
had  her  father,  to  use  common-sense.  He  preferred  to  use 
diplomacy. 

"  You  see,  Hazel,  a  year  won't  be  so  very  long,  and  it 
will  give  your  hair  time  to  grow ;  and  perhaps  you  would 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  33 

not  mind  wearing  a  cap  for  a  time  up  there,  while  if  you 
were  here  you  certainly  would  not  care  about  going  to 
dancing-school  or  parties  in  that  rig ;  now  would  you  ?  " 

Hazel  sniffed  and  looked  for  her  handkerchief.  As  she 
failed  to  find  it,  the  Doctor  applied  his  own  huge  square  of 
linen  to  the  dripping,  reddened  eyes,  and  tenderly  stroked 
the  smooth-shaven  head. 

Hazel  had  her  vanities  like  all  girls,  and  her  long  dark 
braids  had  been  one  of  them.  After  the  fever,  she  had 
been  shorn  of  what  scanty  locks  had  been  left  to  her,  and 
many  a  time  she  had  wondered  what  the  girls  would  say 
when  they  saw  her.  After  all,  the  new  plan  might  be 
endured,  for  the  sake  of  the  hair  and  her  looks. 

She  sniffed  again,  and  this  time  a  good  many  tears  were 
drawn  up  into  her  nose.  The  Doctor,  taking  no  notice  of 
the  subsiding  flood,  proceeded,  — 

"  My  patients  always  look  so  comical  when  the  fuzz  is 
coming  out.  It 's  like  chicken-down  all  over  the  head  — 

"  Fuzz  ! "  exclaimed  Hazel,  with  a  dismayed,  wide-eyed 
look  ;  "  must  I  have  fuzz  for  hair  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,  for  about  five  months,"  was  the  Doc 
tor's  matter-of-fact  reply.  "  Then,"  he  continued,  appa 
rently  unheeding  the  look  of  relief  that  crept  over  Hazel's 
face,  "  you  are  apt  to  have  the  hair  come  out  curly." 

"  Oh !  " 

"  Yes,  and  it  really  grows  very  fast  —  that  is,"  he  said, 
resorting  to  wile,  "if  any  one  is  strong  and  well;  but  if 
the  general  health  is  not  good,  why  —  hem  !  —  the  hair 
is  n't  apt  to  grow !  " 


34  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Goodness !     I  don't  want  to  be  bald  all  my  life  !  " 

"  No,  I  thought  not,  and  for  that  very  reason  it  did  seem 
the  best  thing  for  you  to  get  into  the  country  where  you  can 
get  well  and  strong  as  fast  as  ever  you  can." 

"  Shall  I  have  to  eat  my  breakfast  and  dinner  alone  up 
there?"  was  her  next  question. 

Doctor  Heath  laughed.  "  What !  With  all  those  five 
children  !  You  will  never  want  for  company,  I  can  assure 
you  of  that.  And  now  I  '11  be  off ;  as  it 's  Saint  Valentine's 
Day,  which  I  had  forgotten,  I  '11  wager  I  have  five  valen 
tines  from  those  very  children  waiting  for  me  at  home." 

"  Will  you  show  them  to  me,  if  you  have  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  will.  Now  sit  up  for  half  a  day,  and  get 
yourself  strong  enough  to  let  me  take  you  up  there  by  the 
middle  of  March." 

"  Oh,  are  you  going  to  take  me  ?  What  fun !  Are  they 
friends  of  yours  ?  "  she  added  timidly. 

"  Every  one,"  said  the  Doctor,  emphatically.  He  turned 
at  the  door.  "  You  have  n't  said  yet  whether  you  will 
honor  me  with  your  company  up  there." 

"  I  suppose  I  must,"  she  said,  with  something  between 
a  sigh  and  a  laugh.  "  But  I  don't  know  what  Gabrielle 
will  do ;  she  '11  be  so  homesick." 

"  Gabrielle ! "  cried  the  Doctor,  in  a  voice  loud  with 
amazement ;  "  you  don't  think  you  are  going  to  take 
Gabrielle  with  you,  do  you  ?  " 

Before  Hazel  had  time  to  recover  from  her  astonishment, 
Gabrielle,  hearing  her  name  called  so  loudly,  came  tripping 
into  the  room. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  35 

"  Oui,  oui,  monsieur  le  docteur;"  and  Doctor  Heath 
beat  a  hasty  retreat  to  avoid  further  misunderstandings. 

In  the  afternoon,  Hazel  received  a  box  by  messenger, 
with,  "  Please  return  by  bearer,"  on  the  wrapper.  On 
opening  it,  she  found  the  Doctor's  valentines  with  the  fol 
lowing  sentiments  appropriately  attached. 


By  Rose-pose  made,  by  March  adorned, 
'T  is  not  a  Heart  that  one  should  scorn  : 
For  use  each  day,  the  whole  year  through, 
Where  find  a  Valentine  so  true  ? 


Cherry  Blossom  made  this  fudge 
(Buddie  made  the  box). 
Eat  it  soon,  or  you  will  judge, 
She  made  it  all  of  rocks. 

in 

Baby  May  has  made  this  cookie; 
Mother  baked  it  —  but,  by  hookey  J 
I  can't  find  another  rhyme 
To  match  with  this  your  valentine. 

Your  loving  Valentines, 
ROSE,  MARCH,  "  BUDD  AND  CHKRKY,"  MAY  BLOSSOM. 

(We're  one.) 
MOUNT  HUNGER,  February  14,  1896. 


TRANSPLANTED 

IT  was  the  middle  of  April,  yet  the  drifts  still  blocked 
the  ravines,  and  great  patches  of  snow  lay  scattered  thickly 
on  the  northern  and  eastern  slopes  of  the  mountains. 

Not  a  bud  had  thought  of  swelling ;  not  a  fern  dared  to 
raise  its  downy  ball  above  the  sodden  leaves.  Day  after 
day  a  keen  wind  from  the  north  chased  dark  clouds  across 
a  watery  blue  sky,  and  now  and  then  a  solitary  crow 
flapped  disconsolately  over  the  upland  pastures  and  into 
the  woods. 

But  in  the  farmhouse  on  the  mountain,  every  Blossom 
was  a-quiver  with  excitement,  for  the  "  live  Valentine " 
was  to  arrive  that  day. 

According  to  what  Doctor  Heath  had  written  first,  Airs. 
Blossom  had  expected  Hazel  to  come  the  middle  of  March. 
She  had  told  the  children  about  it  a  week  before  that 
date,  and  ever  since,  wild  and  varied  and  continuous  had 
been  the  speculations  concerning  the  new  member  of  the 
family. 

Both  father  and  mother  were  much  amused  at  the  differ 
ent  ways  in  which  each  one  accepted  the  fact,  and  com 
mented  upon  it.  At  the  same  time  they  were  slightly 
anxious  as  to  the  outcome  of  such  a  combination. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  37 

';  They  '11  work  it  out  for  themselves,  Mary,"  said  Mr. 
Blossom,  when  his  wife  was  expressing  her  fears  on  account 
of  the  attitude  of  March  and  Cherry. 

"  I  hope  with  all  my  heart  they  will,  without  friction  or 
unpleasantness  for  the  poor  child,"  replied  his  wife,  thought 
fully,  for  March's  looks  and  words  returned  to  her,  and 
they  foreboded  trouble. 

Her  husband  smiled.  "  Perhaps  the  '  poor  child '  will 
have  her  ways  of  looking  at  things  up  here,  which  may 
cause  a  pretty  hard  rub  now  and  then  for  our  children. 
But  let  them  take  it ;  it  will  do  them  good,  and  show 
us  what  stuff  is  in  them  for  the  future." 

Mrs.  Blossom  tried  to  think  so,  but  March's  words  on 
that  afternoon  she  had  told  the  children  came  back  to  her. 

They  were  dumb  at  first  through  sheer  surprise.  Then 
Rose  spoke,  flinging  aside  her  Virgil  she  had  been  studying 
by  the  failing  light  at  the  window. 

"  Oh,  mother !  we  've  been  so  happy —  just  by  ourselves." 

"  Will  you  be  less  happy,  Rose,  in  trying  to  make 
some  one  else  share  our  happiness?" 

Rose  said  nothing,  but  leaned  her  forehead  against  the 
pane,  and  the  tears  trickled  adown  it  and  froze  halfway. 

Mrs.  Blossom  proceeded,  in  the  silence  that  followed,  to 
tell  them  something  of  Hazel's  life.  Then  Budd  spoke  up 
like  a  man. 

"  I  'm  awful  sorry  for  her ;  she  's  a  little  brick  to  be 
willing  to  come  away  from  her  father  and  live  with  folks 
she  don't  know.  I  'd  be  a  darned  coward  about  leaving 
my  Popsey." 


38  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

There  was  no  tablecloth  handy  to  hide  the  squeeze  he 
wanted  to  give  his  mother's  hand,  and  Mrs.  Blossom,  know 
ing  how  he  hated  any  public  demonstration  of  affection, 
reserved  her  approving  kiss  for  the  dark  and  bedtime.  But 
she  looked  at  him  in  a  way  that  sent  Budd  whistling,  "  I 
won't  play  in  your  back-yard,"  over  to  the  kitchen  stove, 
where  he  stared  inanely  at  his  own  reflection  in  the  polished 
pipe. 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  Cherry  did  not  echo  her 
twin's  sentiment.  She  was  already  insanely  jealous  of  the 
new-comer  who  seemed  to  claim  so  much  of  her  mother's 
sympathy  and  affection.  And  she  was  n't  even  here ! 
What  Avould  it  be  when  she  was  here  for  good  and  all  ? 

At  this  miserable  thought,  and  all  that  it  appeared  to 
involve,  Cherry  began  to  cry. 

Now  to  see  Cherry  Blossom  cry  generally  afforded 
great  fun  for  the  whole  family;  for  there  never  was  a 
girl  of  ten  who  could  cry  in  quite  such  a  unique  manner 
as  this  same  round-faced,  pug-nosed,  brown-eyed  Cherry, 
whose  red  hair  curled  as  tightly  as  corkscrews  all  over 
her  head,  and  bobbed  and  danced  and  quivered  and  shook 
with  every  motion  and  emotion. 

First,  her  nose  grew  very  red  at  the  tip ;  then,  her  small 
mouth  screwed  itself  around  by  her  left  ear ;  gradually, 
her  round  face  wrinkled  till  it  resembled  a  withered  crab- 
apple  ;  and  finally,  if  one  listened  intently  and  watched 
closely,  one  could  hear  small  sniffs  and  see  two  infini 
tesimal  drops  of  water  issue  from  the  nearly  closed  and 
wrinkled  eyes. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  39 

But  to-day  no  one  noticed,  and  Cherry  sat  down  in 
her  mother's  lap,  and  mumbled  out  her  woe  between 
sniffs. 

"  I  can't  help  it  if  Budd  does  want  her ;  /  don't,  Martie. 
Budd  will  play  with  her,  and  you  '11  kiss  her  just  as  you 
do  us,  and  it  won't  be  comfy  any  more." 

"  That  does  not  sound  like  mother's  Cherry  Blossom," 
said  Mrs.  Blossom,  smiling  in  spite  of  herself.  "  I  think 
I  '11  tell  you  all  why  it  comes  to  mother  and  father  as  a 
blessing." 

Then  Mrs.  Blossom  told  them  of  the  mortgage  on  the 
farm ;  how  it  had  been  made  necessary,  and  what  it  meant, 
and  how  it  was  her  duty  to  accept  what  had  been  sent  to 
her  as  a  means  of  paying  it  off. 

Rose  came  over  from  the  window.  "  Oh,  why  did  n't 
you  tell  us  before,  Martie,"  she  cried,  sobbing  outright  this 
time,  "  and  let  us  help  you  to  earn  something  towards  it 
during  all  this  dreadful  year?  To  think  you  have  been 
bearing  all  this,  and  just  going  about  the  same,  smiling  and 
cheer  —  oh,  dear !  "  Rose  sat  down  on  the  hearth-rug  at  her 
mother's  feet,  and  her  sobs  mingled  with  Cherry's  sniffs. 

March,  who  had  listened  thus  far  in  silence,  rose  from 
the  settle  where  he  had  flung  himself  in  disgust,  and,  going 
over  to  his  mother,  stood  straight  and  tall  before  her.  His 
gray  eyes  flashed. 

"  I  've  been  a  fool,  mother,  not  to  see  it  all  before  this. 
You  ought  to  have  told  me.  I  'm  your  eldest  son,  and  come 
next  after  father  in  '  home  things.' '  And  with  this  asser 
tion  he  made  a  mighty  resolve,  then  and  there  to  put  away 


40  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

boyish  things  and  be  more  of  a  man.  His  mother,  looking 
at  him,  felt  the  change,  and  tears  of  thankfulness  filled  her 
eyes. 

"  What  could  you  do,  children  ?  You  were  too  young 
to  have  your  lives  burdened  with  work." 

"  I  'd  have  found  something  to  do,  mother,  if  you  had 
only  told  me.  About  the  girl  —  "  he  hesitated  —  "  of 
course  I  '11  look  at  it  from  the  money  side,  but  it  '11  never 
be  the  same  after  she  comes  —  never ! "  And  with  that  he 
went  off  into  the  barn. 

His  mother  sighed,  for  March  was  looking  at  the  matter 
in  the  very  way  which,  to  her,  was  abhorrent. 

"  Don't  sigh  so,  Martie,"  cried  Rose  ;  "  I  '11  take  back 
what  I  said,  and  do  everything  I  can  to  help  you  by  mak 
ing  it  pleasant  for  her.  Budd  has  made  me  ashamed  of 
myself." 

"  That 's  my  own  daughter  Rose,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom, 
leaning  over  to  kiss  her  parting,  for  Cherry  was  awkwardly 
in  the  way. 

"  Did  you  hear  Rose,  Cherry  ?  "  whispered  her  mother. 

"  Ye-es,"  sniffed  Cherry. 

"  And  won't  you  try  to  help  mother,  and  make  Hazel 
happy  ?  " 

"  N-o,"  said  Cherry,  still  obdurate. 

"  Very  well ;  then  I  must  depend  on  Rose  and  Budd  and 
little  May,"  replied  her  mother,  putting  her  down  from  her 
knee.  By  which  Cherry  knew  she  was  out  of  favor,  and, 
not  having  Budd  to  flee  to  for  sympathy,  ran  blindly  out 
into  the  woodshed  and  straight  into  Chi,  who  was  bringing 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  41 

in  two  twelve-quart  milk  pails  filled  to  overflowing  with 
their  creamy  contents. 

"Hi  there !  Cherry  Bounce !  Steady,  steady  —  without 
you  want  to  mop  up  this  woodshed." 

"  O  Chi !  I  'm  just  as  miser'ble ;  a  new  little  girl 's 
coming  to  live  with  us  always,  and  we  '11  have  no  more 
good  times." 

"  That 's  queer,"  said  Chi,  balancing  the  pails  deftly  as 
Cherry  fluttered  about,  rather  uncertain  as  to  where  she 
should  betake  herself  in  the  cold.  "  I  should  think  it 
would  be  the  more,  the  merrier.  When 's  she  comin'  ?  " 

"  This  very  month,"  said  Cherry,  opening  her  eyes  a  little 
wider,  and  forgetting  to  sniff  in  her  delight  at  telling  some 
news.  "  She  's  a  rich  little  girl,  but  very  poor,  too,  mother 
says,  and  she 's  been  sick  and  is  coming  here  to  get  well.  I 
suppose  she  's  lost  all  her  flesh  while  she  's  been  sick,  like 
Aunt  Tryphosa ;  don't  you  ?  That 's  why  she  's  so  poor. " 

"  Hm  !  —  rich  'n'  poor  too  ;  that's  bad  for  children,"  said 
Chi,  soberly. 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Cherry,  surprised  into  drying  her  small 
tears  and  forgetting  to  sniff. 

"  Coz  't  is.  You  see,  all  you  children  are  rich  'n'  poor 
too ;  so  she  '11  keep  you  comp'ny,  as  she  's  poor  where 
you  're  rich  as  Croesus,  'n'  you  're  poor  as  Job's  turkey 
where  she's  rich." 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean,  Chi?" 

"  You  wait  awhile,  'n'  you  '11  find  out."  And  with  that, 
Cherry  had  to  be  content. 

As  the  woodshed  was  too  cold  to  be  long  comfortably 


42  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

mournful  in,  —  Cherry  decided  to  go  inside  and  set  the 
table  for  tea,  wondering,  meanwhile,  what  Chi  meant. 
Ordinarily  she  would  have  gone  straight  to  her  mother  to 
find  out ;  but  just  to-night  Cherry  felt  there  was  an  abyss 
separating  them,  and  she  hated  the  very  thought  of  the 
newcomer  having  caused  this  break  between  her  adored 
Martie  and  herself  before  having  stepped  foot  in  the 
house. 

But  Hazel's  arrival  had  been  delayed  a  whole  month  : 
first,  on  account  of  the  unusually  cold  weather  of  March, 
and  then  on  account  of  the  Doctor's  pressing  engage 
ments.  To-night,  however,  this  long  waiting  was  to  be  at 
an  end. 

Mr.  Blossom  had  harnessed  Bess  and  Bob  into  the  two- 
seated  wagon,  and  driven  down  three  miles  for  them  to  the 
"  Mill  Settlement ;  "  and  there  he  was  to  meet  the  stage 
from  Barton's  River,  the  nearest  railway  station. 

As  the  time  approached  for  the  light  of  the  lantern  on 
the  wagon  to  glimmer  on  the  lower  mountain  road,  which 
ran  in  view  of  the  house,  the  excitement  of  Budd  and  Cherry 
grew  intense.  March  intended  to  be  indifferent,  yet  tolerant, 
but  even  he  went  twice  to  the  door  to  listen.  As  for  Rose, 
she  was  thinking  almost  more  of  Doctor  Heath,  with  whom 
she  was  a  great  favorite,  than  of  the  coming  guest.  Chi 
had  done  up  the  chores  early  with  March's  help,  and  sat 
whistling  and  whittling  in  the  shed  door  with  his  eye  on 
the  lower  road. 

"  They  're  coming ;  they  're  coming !  "  screamed  the  twins, 
making  a  wild  dash  for  the  woodshed,  that  they  might  have 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  43 

the  first  glimpse  as  the  wagon  drove  up  to  the  kitchen 
porch. 

"  Chi,  they  're  coming  !  "  they  shrieked  in  his  ear,  as  they 
flew  past  him. 

"Well,  I  ain't  deaf,  if  they  are,"  said  Chi,  gathering 
himself  together,  and  going  out  to  help  unload. 

"  Chi,  how  are  you  ?  "  said  the  Doctor,  in  a  hearty  tone, 
grasping  the  horny  hand  held  out  to  him. 

"  First-rate,  'n'  glad  to  see  you  back  on  the  Mountain." 

"  Here,  lend  a  hand,  will  you  ?  and  take  out  a  little  some 
body  who  has  to  be  handled  rather  gently  for  a  week  or 
two." 

"  I  ain't  much  used  to  handlin'  chiny,"  he  replied,  "but 
I  '11  be  careful." 

He  reached  up  his  long  arms  and,  gently  as  a  woman, 
lifted  Hazel  out  of  the  wagon  on  to  the  porch. 

By  this  time,  Budd  had  found  his  bearings  and  had  the 
Doctor  by  the  hand. 

"  Halloo,  Budd !  here  you  are  handy.  Just  take  Hazel's 
bag,  and  run  into  the  house  with  her ;  she  must  n't  stand  a 
minute  in  this  keen  air." 

Budd's  heart  was  going  pretty  fast,  but  he  faced  the 
music. 

"  Come  along,  Hazel ;  we  've  been  waiting  a  month  to 
see  you." 

"  And  I  've  been  waiting  longer  than  that  to  see  you, 
Budd."  The  gentle  voice  made  Budd  her  vassal  forever 
after. 

"  Here,  Martie,  here 's  Hazel  I  "  he  shouted  quite  unne- 


44  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

cessarily,  for  his  mother  had  come  to  the  door  to  welcome 
her  guests.  Cherry,  hearing  the  shout,  disappeared  in  the 
pantry,  and  was  invisible  until  called  to  supper. 

In  the  confusion  of  glad  welcome  that  followed,  Hazel 
was  conscious  of  stepping  into  a  large,  warm,  lighted  room, 
of  some  one's  arms  about  her,  and  of  a  loving  voice,  saying : 

"  Come  in,  dear ;  you  must  be  so  tired  with  your  long 
journey  and  this  cold  ride ; "  and  then  a  kiss  that  made  her 
half  forget  the  lonely,  strange  feeling  she  had  had  during 
the  stage  and  wagon  ride,  despite  the  doctor's  cheerfulness 
and  care  of  her. 

Then  some  one  untied  her  brown  velvet  hood  and  loos 
ened  her  long  sealskin  coat. 

"  Let  me  take  off  your  things,"  said  Rose. 

Hazel  looked  up  and  into  the  loveliest  face  she  ever 
remembered  to  have  seen. 

"  I  'm  Rose,  and  this  is  May.  May,  this  is  the  valentine 
Martie  told  us  of." 

"  I  tiss  'oo,"  said  May,  winningly,  and  held  up  her  rosy 
bud  of  a  face  to  Hazel.  Hazel  stooped  to  give  her,  not 
one,  but  a  half-dozen  kisses.  There  was  no  resisting  such 
a  little  blossom. 

May  put  up  her  hand  and  stroked  the  little  silk  skull 
cap. 

"  What  'oo  wear  tap  for  ?  " 

"  Sh !  baby,"  said  Rose,  horrified,  putting  her  hand  on 
May's  mouth. 

"  Oh,  don't  do  that,"  said  Hazel,  "  I  'm  so  used  to  it  now  ; 
I  don't  mind  what  people  say  or  think.  But  I  did  at  first." 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  45 

May's  lip  began  to  quiver  and  roll  over ;  Hazel  sat 
down  on  the  settle,  and,  drawing  May  up  beside  her,  said 
gently :  — 

"  There,  there,  little  May  Blossom,  don't  you  cry,  and 
I  '11  tell  you  all  about  it.  It 's  because  I  have  n't  any  hair. 
I  lost  it  all  when  I  was  sick  so  long.  Sometime  1 11  show 
you  how  funny  my  head  looks,  all  covered  with  fuzz. 
Doctor  Heath  says  it's  like  a  little  chicken's."  And  May 
was  comforted  and  won  once  and  for  all  to  the  Valentine, 
who  gave  her  the  tiny  chatelaine  watch  to  play  with. 

Budd  had  been  hanging  about  to  get  the  first  glimpse  of 
Hazel  by  lamplight,  and  now  rushed  off  to  the  barn  and 
Chi  to  give  vent  to  his  feelings. 

"  I  say,  Chi,  where  are  you  ?  " 

"  In  the  harness  room,"  replied  Chi.  "  What  do  you 
want  ?  "  as  he  appeared. 

"  I  say,  Chi,  she  's  a  peach.  She  is  n't  a  bit  stuck  up,  as 
March  said  she  would  be." 

"  Good-lookin'  ?  "  queried  Chi. 

"N-o,"  said  Budd,  hesitating,  "n-o,  but  I  think  she  will 
be  when  she  gets  some  hair." 

"  Ain't  got  any  hair !  "  exclaimed  Chi.  "  How  does  that 
happen  ?  " 

"  She  said  she  'd  been  sick  an'  lost  it  all,  an'  't  was  like 
chicken  fuzz." 

"  Said  that,  did  she  ?  "  exclaimed  Chi,  laughing ;  then, 
with  the  sudden  change  from  gayety  to  absolute  solemnity 
that  was  peculiar  to  him,  he  said:  — 

«  She  's  no  fool,  I  can  tell  you  that,  Budd ;  V  I  '11  bet 


46  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

my  last  red  cent  she  '11  come  out  an  A  Number  1  beauty ; 
'n'  March  Blossom  had  better  hold  his  tongue  till  he  cuts 
all  his  wisdom  teeth."  And  with  that  Chi  went  into  the 
shed  room  to  "  wash  up." 

What  a  supper  that  was !  And  what  a  room  in  which 
to  eat  it! 

But  for  the  Doctor's  cheeiy  voice,  Hazel,  as  she  sat  in  a 
corner  of  the  settle,  might  have  thought  herself  in  another 
world,  so  unaccustomed  were  her  city-bred  eyes  to  all  that 
was  going  on  before  her.  The  room  itself  was  so  queer, 
and,  in  a  way  new  to  her,  delightful. 

The  farmhouse  was  an  old  one,  strong  of  beam  and  solid 
of  foundation.  It  had  been  divided  at  first  according  to 
the  fashion  of  the  other  century  in  which  it  was  built.  But 
as  his  family  increased,  Mr.  Blossom  found  the  need  of  a 
large,  general  living-room.  It  was  then  that  he  took  down 
the  wall  between  the  front  square  room  and  the  kitchen, 
and  threw  them  into  one.  It  was  this  arrangement  that 
made  the  apartment  unique. 

At  one  end  was  the  huge  fireplace  that  was  originally 
in  the  front  room.  At  the  left  of  the  fireplace  was  the 
jog  into  which  the  front  door  opened,  formerly  the  little 
entry. 

This  was  the  sitting-room  end  of  the  low  forty-foot-long 
apartment ;  and  it  showed  to  Hazel  the  fireplace,  the  old- 
fashioned  crane,  with  the  hickory  back-log  glowing  warm 
welcome,  the  long  red-cushioned  settle,  a  set  of  shelves 
filled  with  books,  a  little  round  work-table,  Mrs.  Blossom's 
special  property,  a  large  round  table  of  cherry  that  had 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  47 

turned  richly  red  with  age,  and  wooden  armchairs  and 
rockers,  with  patchwork  cushions. 

The  middle  portion  served  for  dining-room.  In  it  were 
the  family  table  of  hard  pine,  the  wooden  chairs,  and  Mrs. 
Blossom's  grandmother's  tall  pine  dresser. 

At  the  kitchen  end,  next  the  woodshed,  were  the  sink, 
the  stove,  the  kitchen  shelves  for  pots  and  pans,  and 
the  kitchen  table  with  its  bread-trough  and  pie-board, 
all  of  which  Rose  kept  scoured  white  with  soap  and 
sand. 

This  living-room,  sitting-room,  dining-room,  and  kitchen 
in  one  had  six  windows  facing  south  and  east.  Every 
window  had  brackets  for  plants ;  for  this  evening  Rose 
had  turned  the  blossom-side  inwards  to  the  room,  and  the 
walls  glowed  and  gleamed  with  the  velvety  crimson  of 
gloxinias,  the  red  of  fuchsias,  the  pink  and  white  and 
scarlet  of  geraniums,  the  cream  of  wax -plant  and  begonia. 
Upon  all  this  radiance  of  color,  the  lamplight  shone  and 
the  fire  flashed  its  crimson  shadows.  The  kettle  sang  on 
the  stove,  and  the  delicious  odor  of  baked  potatoes  came 
from  the  open  oven. 

"  Why,  March !  "  said  the  Doctor,  coming  down  from  the 
spare  room  at  the  call  for  supper,  "  waiting  for  an  intro 
duction  ?  I  did  n't  know  you  stood  on  ceremony  in  this 
fashion.  Allow  me,"  he  said  with  mock  gravity  to  Hazel, 
and  presented  March  in  due  form. 

Hazel  greeted  him  exactly  as  she  would  have  greeted  a 
new  boy  at  dancing-school.  "  Little  Miss  Finicky,"  was 
March's  scornful  thought  of  her,  as  he  bowed  rather  awk- 


48  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

wardly  and  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  racking  his 
brains  for  something  to  say. 

"  What  a  handsome  boy !  As  handsome  as  Jack,"  was 
Hazel's  first  impression ;  then,  missing  the  cordiality  with 
which  the  other  members  of  the  family  had  welcomed  her, 
she  said  in  thought,  "  I  'm  sure  he  does  not  want  me  here 
by  the  way  he  acts ;  I  think  he  's  horrid." 

Doctor  Heath  sat  down  by  Hazel.  "  I  'm  not  going  to 
let  you  sit  down  to  tea  with  all  these  mischiefs,  little  girl, 
not  to-night,  for  you  can't  eat  baked  potatoes  and  the 
other  good  things  after  that  long  journey,  so  I  '11  ask  Rose 
to  give  you  a  bite  right  here  on  the  settle." 

"  I  '11  speak  to  Rose,"  said  March,  glad  to  get  away. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  Doctor,  looking  after  him  with  a 
puzzled  expression  in  his  keen  eyes.  Just  then  Mr.  Blos 
som  and  Chi  came  in,  and  the  whole  family  sat  down  at 
the  table. 

"  Why,  where  's  Cherry?"  exclaimed  the  Doctor. 

"  Budd,  where  's  Cherry  ?  "  said  his  father. 

"  I  promised  her  I  would  n't  tell  where  she  hides  till  she 
was  twelve,  an'  now  she  's  ten,  an'  she  's  been  so  mean 
about  Haz  — 

"  Budd,"  said  his  father,  sternly,  "  answer  me  directly." 

"  She  's  under  the  pantry  shelf  behind  the  meal-chest," 
said  Budd,  meekly. 

There  was  a  shout  of  laughter  that  caused  Cherry  to 
crawl  out  pretty  quickly  and  open  the  pantry  door,  —  for 
it  was  hard  to  hear  the  fun  and  not  be  in  it. 

"  Come,  Cherry,"  said  her   mother,  still  laughing,  and 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  49 

Cherry  slipped  into  her  seat  beside  Doctor  Heath  with  a 
murmured,  "How  do  you  do?"  and  her  face  bent  so  low 
over  her  plate  that  nothing  was  visible  to  Hazel  but  a 
round  head  running  over  with  tight  red  curls  that  bobbed 
and  trembled  in  a  peculiarly  funny  way. 

"  Well,  Cherry,"  said  the  Doctor,  trying  to  speak  gravely, 
with  only  the  red  tip  of  a  nose  in  view,  "  you  seem  to  be 
rather  low  in  your  mind.  I  shall  have  to  prescribe  for 
you.  Chi,  suppose  you  drive  me  down  to  the  Settlement 
to-morrow  morning,  and  on  the  way  to  the  train  I  will 
send  up  a  cure-all  for  low  spirits.  I  've  something  for 
March,  too.  I  think  he  needs  it."  He  drew  his  eyebrows 
together  over  the  bridge  of  his  nose  and  cast  a  sharp 
glance  at  the  boy,  who  felt  the  doctor  had  read  him. 

"  That  means  you  've  got  something  for  us,"  said  Budd, 
bluntly. 

"  Guess  Budd 's  hit  the  nail  on  the  head  this  time,"  said 
Chi.  "  Should  n't  wonder  if  't  was  some  pretty  lively 
stuff." 

"You're  right  there,  Chi,"  replied  the  Doctor,  laughing. 
"  There  's  plenty  of  good  strong  bark  in  it  — 

Thereupon  there  was  a  shout  of  joy  from  Budd  which 
brought  Cherry's  head  into  position  at  once. 

"  I  know,  I  know,  it 's  a  St.  Bernard  puppy !  " 

"  Oh  —  ee,"  squealed  Cherry,  in  her  delight,  and  forth 
with  put  her  arm  through  the  Doctor's  and  squeezed  it 
hard  against  her  ribs. 

"  Guess  there 's  a  good  deal  of  crow-foot  in  the  other, 
ain't  there  ?  "  said  Chi,  with  a  wink  at  March,  who  deliber- 

4 


50  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

ately  left  his  seat  after  saying,  "  Excuse  me  "  most  gravely 
to  his  mother,  and  turned  a  somersault  in  the  kitchen  end 
just  to  relieve  his  feelings.  Then,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  he  went  up  to  Doctor  Heath,  his  usually  clear, 
pale  face  flushing  with  excitement. 

"  Do  you  mean,  Doctor  Heath,  you  're  going  to  give  me 
a  full-blooded  Wyandotte  cock  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  That  is  just  what  I  mean,  March,"  replied  the  Doctor, 
with  great  gravity,  "  and  twelve  full-blooded  wives  are  at 
this  moment  looking  in  vain  for  a  roost  beside  their  lord 
and  master  in  the  express  office  down  at  Barton's  River." 

"  Oh,  glory ! "  cried  March,  wringing  the  Doctor's  hand 
with  both  his,  and  then  going  off  to  execute  another 
somersault.  "  You  've  done  it  now  !  " 

"Done  what,  March?"  asked  Doctor  Heath,  really 
touched  by  the  boy's  grateful  enthusiasm. 

"  Made  my  fortune,"  he  replied,  dropping  into  his  seat 
again,  breathless  with  excitement;  and  to  the  Doctor's 
amazement  he  saw  tears,  actual  tears,  gather  in  the  boy's 
eyes,  before  he  looked  down  in  his  plate  and  busied  himself 
with  his  baked  potato. 

Hazel  saw  them  too.  "  What  a  strange  boy,"  she  thought, 
"  and  how  different  this  is  from  eating  my  dinner  all  alone  !  " 
Then  she  slipped  up  to  the  Doctor's  side  with  her  small  tray 
containing  nothing  but  empty  dishes,  for  the  keen  air  and 
the  sight  of  so  many  others  eating  and  enjoying  themselves 
had  given  her  a  good  appetite. 

"  Are  you  satisfied  with  me  now  ?  "  she  said,  presenting 
her  tray. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  51 

"I  should  think  so,"  he  exclaimed.  "Two  glasses  of 
milk,  two  slices  of  toasted  brown  bread,  one  piece  of 
sponge  cake,  and  a  baked  apple  with  cream  !  I  've  gone 
out  of  business  with  you ;  my  last  '  tonic '  is  going  to 
work  well,  — don't  you  think  so  ?" 

"  I  'm  sure  it  is,"  she  said  quietty,  but  there  was  such  a 
depth  of  meaning  in  the  sweet  voice  and  the  few  words 
that  the  Doctor  threw  his  arm  around  her  as  they  rose  from 
the  table,  and  kept  her  beside  him  until  bedtime. 

At  nine  o'clock,  Mrs.  Blossom  helped  her  to  undress, 
and  then,  saying  she  would  come  back  soon,  left  her  alone 
in  the  little  bedroom  off  the  kitchen. 

Hazel  looked  about  her  in  amazement.  This  was  her 
little  room  !  A  small  single  bed,  looking  like  a  snow  drift, 
so  white  and  feathery  and  high  was  it;  one  window  cur 
tained  with  a  square  of  starched  white  cotton  cloth  that 
drew  over  the  panes  by  means  of  a  white  cord  on  which  it 
was  run  at  the  top ;  a  tiny  wash-stand  with  an  old-fashioned 
bowl  and  pitcher  of  green  and  white  stone-ware,  and  over 
it  an  old-fashioned  gilt  mirror;  a  small  splint-bottomed 
chair  and  large  braided  rug  of  red  woollen  rags.  That 
was  all,  except  in  one  corner,  where  some  cleats  had  been 
nailed  to  the  ceiling  and  a  clothes-press  made  by  hanging 
from  them  full  curtains  of  white  cloth. 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  Hazel  unpacked  her  own 
travelling-bag  and  took  out  the  silver  toilet  articles  with 
the  pretty  monogram.  But  where  should  she  put  them  ? 
No  bureau,  no  dressing-case,  no  bath-room !  —  For  a  few 
minutes  Hazel  felt  bewildered,  then,  laughing,  she  put  them 


52  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

back  again  into  her  bag,  and,  leaving  her  candle  in  the  tin 
candlestick  on  the  wash-stand,  she  gave  one  leap  into  the 
middle  of  the  high  feather-bed. 

Just  then  Mrs.  Blossom  returned  from  saying  good-night 
to  her  own  children.  She  tucked  Hazel  in  snugly,  and  to 
the  young  girl's  surprise,  knelt  by  the  bed  saying,  "  Let  us 
repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer  together,  dear ; "  and  together 
they  said  it,  Hazel  fearing  almost  the  sound  of  her  own 
voice.  When  they  had  finished,  Mary  Blossom,  still 
kneeling,  asked  that  Father  to  bless  the  coming  of  this 
one  of  His  little  ones  into  their  home,  and  asked  it  in  such 
a  loving,  trustful  way,  that  Hazel's  arm  stole  out  from  the 
coverlet  and  around  Mrs.  Blossom's  neck ;  her  head,  soft 
and  silky  as  a  new-born  baby's,  cuddled  to  her  shoulder : 
and  when  Mrs.  Blossom  kissed  her  good-night,  she  said 
suddenly,  but  half-timidly,  "  Do  you  say  this  with  Rose 
eveiy  night  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  every  night." 

"  And  how  old  is  Rose  ?" 

"  She  will  be  seventeen  next  August." 

"Do  you  with  Budd  and  Cherry,  too?" 

"  Yes,  Avith  all  my  children,  even  March  and  May." 

"  March  !  "  exclaimed  Hazel. 

"  Why  not  ? "  laughed  his  mother.  "  I  'm  sure  he 
needs  it,  as  you  '11  find  out ;  now  good-night,  and  don't 
get  up  to  our  early  breakfast  to-morrow,  for  the  Doctor 
goes  on  the  first  morning  train,  and  you  're  not  quite 
strong  enough  yet  to  do  just  as  we  do.  Good-night 
again." 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  53 

"  Good-night,"  said  Hazel,  thinking  she  could  never 
have  enough  of  this  kind  of  putting  to  bed. 

Meanwhile  March  and  Budd,  in  their  bedroom  over  the 
"  long-room,"  were  discussing  in  half-whispers  Wyandotte 
cocks,  St.  Bernard  puppies,  and  the  new-comer,  for  they 
were  too  excited  to  sleep. 

Just  behind  March's  bed,  near  the  head,  there  was  a 
large  knot  in  the  boards  of  the  flooring,  which  for  four 
years  had  served  him  many  a  good  turn,  when  Budd  and 
Cherry  were  planning,  below  in  the  kitchen,  how  they 
could  play  tricks  upon  him.  March  had  carefully  removed 
the  knot,  and  with  his  eye,  or  ear,  at  the  hole,  he  had  been 
able,  entirely  to  the  mystification  of  the  twins,  to  overthrow 
their  conspiracies  and  defeat  their  flank  movements.  When 
his  espionage  was  over,  he  replaced  the  knot,  and  no  one 
in  the  household  was  the  wiser  for  his  private  detective 
service. 

To-day,  late  in  the  afternoon,  he  had  taken  out  the  knot, 
intending  to  have  a  view  of  the  new  arrival,  unbeknown 
to  the  rest  of  the  household;  but  so  interested  had  he 
become  in  the  general  welcome  and  in  the  anticipation  of 
the  Doctor's  gifts,  that  he  had  forgotten  both  to  look 
through  the  hole  and  to  replace  the  knot. 

Hazel,  too,  could  not  sleep  at  first.  It  was  all  so  strange, 
and  yet  she  was  so  happy.  Her  thoughts  were  in  New 
York,  and  she  was  already  planning  for  a  visit  from  her 
father,  when  suddenly  she  remembered  that  she  had  left 
the  little  chatelaine  watch  he  had  given  her  on  her  last 
birthday,  lying  on  the  settle  where  May  had  been  playing 


54  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

with  it.  She  must  wind  it  regularly,  that  was  her  father's 
stipulation  when  he  gave  it  to  her.  She  sprang  out  of 
bed,  tiptoed  to  the  door,  listened;  all  was  still,  but  not 
wholly  dark.  The  embers  beneath  the  ashes  in  the  fire 
place  sent  a  dull  glow  into  the  room.  Softly  she  stole 
out;  found  her  watch,  then,  half-way  to  her  own  door, 
stopped,  startled  by  a  voice  issuing  apparently  from  the 
rafters  overhead.  It  was  March,  who,  forgetting  his  open 
knot-hole,  turned  over  towards  the  wall  with  a  prolonged 
yawn  and  said,  evidently  in  answer  to  Budd :  — 

"  Oh,  go  to  sleep ;  don't  talk  about  her.     I  think  she  's 
a  perfect  guy." 


VI 

MALACHI 

IT  was  a  month  after  the  eventful  day  for  the  Blossoms, 
and  Saturday  morning.  Rose,  with  her  sleeves  rolled  up 
above  her  elbows,  was  kneading  bread  and  singing,  as  she 
worked :  — 

" '  Oh,  a  king  would  have  loved  and  left  thee, 
And  away  thy  sweet  love  cast : 
But  I  am  thine 

Whilst  the  stars  shall  shine,  — 
To  the  —  last  —  '  " 

Just  here,  she  gave  the  round  mass  of  dough  a  toss  up 

to  the  ceiling  and  caught  it  deftly  on  her  right  fist  as  it 

came  down,  finishing  her  octave  with  high  C,  while  again 

the  bread  spun  aloft  and  dropped  in  safety  on  her  left  fist 

-"to  the  last!" 

Then  she  proceeded  with  her  kneading  and  singing :  — 

"  '  I  told  thee  when  love  was  hopeless; 
But  now  he  is  wild  and  sings  — 
That  the  stars  above  [up  went  the  bread  again]  — 
Shine  ever  on  Love  — ' 

A  peal  of  merry  laughter  close  behind  her  made  her 
jump,  and  the  bread  came  down  kerchunk  into  the 
kneading  trough. 


56  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Gracious,  Hazel !  how  you  frightened  me !  I  thought 
you  were  off  with  Budd  and  Cherry." 

"  So  I  was  ;  but  they  wanted  me  to  come  in  and  tell  you 
there  is  to  be  a  secret  meeting  of  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  Society 
in  the  usual  place.  They  said  you  would  know  where  it  is." 

"  Of  course  I  do ;  do  you  ?  " 

"  No,  they  would  n't  tell.  They  said  it  is  against  the 
rules  to  allow  any  one  in  who  hasn't  been  initiated.  They 
said  they  'd  initiate  me,  if  I  wanted  to  join." 

"  Well,  do  you  want  to  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do,  if  you  belong,"  said  Hazel,  eagerly. 

"  Tell  them  I  '11  be  out  after  I  've  put  the  bread  to  rise 
and  cleared  up;  but  be  sure  and  tell  them  not  to  do 
anything  till  I  come." 

"  Yes,"  cried  Hazel,  joyfully,  skipping  through  the  wood 
shed  and  encountering  Chi  with  a  bag  of  seed-beans. 

"Where  you  goin',  Lady -bird?"  (This  was  Chi's  name 
for  her  from  the  first  day.)  "  Seems  to  me  you  're  gettin' 
over  the  ground  pretty  fast." 

"  The  Buds "  (for  so  Hazel  had  nicknamed  the  chil 
dren)  "  are  going  to  have  a  meeting  somewhere  of  the 
N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  Society,  and  I  'm  to  be  initiated,  Chi.  What 
does  that  mean  ?  " 

"Initiated,  hey?  Into  a  secret  society?  Well,  that 
depends.  —  Sometimes  it  means  being  tossed  sky-high  in 
a  blanket,  and  then  again  you  're  dropped  lower  than  the 
bottomless  pit ;  and  you  can't  most  always  tell  beforehand 
which  way  you  're  goin'." 

Hazel's  face  fairly  lost  the  rich  color  she  had  gained  in 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  57 

the  past  month.  This  was  more  than  she  had  bargained 
for. 

"  Oh,  Chi !  They  would  n't  do  such  things  to  me !  "  she 
exclaimed  in  dismay. 

"  Well,  no  —  I  don't  know  as  they  'd  carry  it  that  far ; 
but  those  children  mean  mischief  every  time." 

"  But  they  would  n't  hurt  me,  Chi.  They  would  n't  be 
as  mean  as  that;  besides,  Rose  wouldn't  let  them." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  as  she  would.  But  children  are 
children,  and  Rose  ain't  grown  any  wings  yet." 

"  Was  Rose  initiated  ?  "  was  Hazel's  next  rather  anxious 
question. 

"  Yes,  she  was,"  said  Chi,  taking  up  a  handful  of  beans 
and  letting  them  run  through  his  fingers  into  the  open 
bag. 

"How  do  you  know,  Chi?" 

"  Coz  I  initiated  her  myself." 

"  You,  Chi  ?     Why,  do  you  belong  ?  " 

"  First  member  of  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  Society." 

"Well,  that's  funny.     Who  initiated  you?" 

Chi  set  down  the  bag  of  beans,  and  for  a  moment  shook 
with  laughter ;  then,  growing  perfectly  sober,  he  said 
solemnly :  — 

"  I  initiated  myself.  But  they  was  all  on  hand  when  I 
did  it." 

"What  did  you  do,  Chi?" 

"  Just  hear  her !  "  said  Chi  to  himself,  but  aloud,  he  said, 
"  I  '11  tell  you  this  much,  if  it  is  a  secret  society.  They 
try  'n'  see  what  stuff  you  're  made  of." 


58  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  '  Sugar  and  spice 
And  all  that 's  nice, 
That 's  what  little  girls  are  made  of,'  " 

Hazel  interrupted,  singing  merrily. 

"  There  was  n't  much  '  sugar  'n'  spice '  in  that  Rose 
Blossom  when  she  put  me  to  the  test.  You  ain't  heard  a 
screech-owl  yet;  but  when  you  do,  you '11  come  running 
home  to  find  out  whose  bein'  killed  in  the  woods." 

Hazel  looked  at  him  half  in  fear,  but  Chi  went  on 
stolidly :  — 

"  'N'  those  children  told  me  I  'd  got  to  go  up  into  the 
woods  at  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  when  the  screech-owls 
was  yellin'  bloody  murder,  to  show  I  wasn't  scairt  of 
nothin';  'n'  I  went." 

"  Oh,  Chi,  was  n't  it  awful  ?  " 

"  Kinder  scarey ;  but  they  gave  me  the  dinner  horn  'n' 
told  me  to  blow  a  blast  on  that  when  I  was  up  there,  so 
they  'd  hear,  'n'  know  I  was  clear  into  the  woods  ;  for  they 
was  all  on  hand  watchin'  from  the  back  attic  window  — 
what  they  could  in  a  pitch-black  night  —  to  see  if  I  'd 
back  down." 

"  And  you  did  n't,  Chi  ?  "  said  Hazel,  eagerly. 

"  You  bet  I  did  n't,  'n'  I  brought  home  an  old  screecher 
just  to  prove  I  was  game." 

"  How  did  you  catch  him,  Chi?" 

Chi  clapped  his  hands  on  his  knees,  and  shook  with 
laughter ;  then  he  grew  perfectly  sober :  — 

"  I  took  a  dark  lantern  along  with  me,  just  to  kind  of 
feel  my  way  in  the  woods  —  but  the  children  did  n't 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  59 

know  about  that  —  'n'  when  an  old  screecher  gave  a  blood- 
curdlin'  yell,  just  as  near  my  right  ear  as  the  engine  down 
on  the  track  when  you  're  standin'  at  the  depot  at  Barton's 
River,  —  just  then  I  turned  on  the  light  full  tilt,  and  the 
feller  sat  right  still  on  the  branch,  kind  of  dazed  like,  'n' 
I  took  him  just  as  easy  as  I  'd  take  a  hen  off  the  roost 
after  dark,  'n'  brought  him  home.  'N'  just  as  I  was  goin' 
up  into  the  attic  in  the  dark,  the  shed  stairs'  way,  'n'  the 
children  was  all  listenin'  at  the  top  in  the  dark,  the 
dummed  bird  gave  such  a  screech  that  the  children  all 
tumbled  over  one  another  tryin'  to  get  back  to  their  beds, 
'n'  such  screamin'  'n'  hollerin'  you  never  heard  —  the  bird 
was  n't  in  it." 

Again  Chi  laughed  at  the  recollection,  and  Hazel  joined 
him. 

"  Did  they  make  you  do  anything  more,  Chi  ?  " 

"  By  George  Washin'ton  !  I  should  think  they  did," 
said  Chi,  soberly.  "  That  last  was  March's  idea,  but 
Rose  went  him  one  more." 

"  What  could  Rose  think  of  worse  than  that?  "  demanded 
Hazel. 

"  Well,  she  did.  She  blindfolded  my  eyes  'n'  took  me 
by  the  hand,  'n'  turned  me  round  'n'  round  till  I  was  most 
dizzy ;  'n'  then  she  gave  me  a  rope,  'n'  she  took  one  end 
of  it  'n'  made  me  take  the  other,  'n'  kept  leadin'  me  'n' 
leadin'  me,  'n'  the  children  all  caperin'  round  me,  screamin' 
'n'  laughin'.  Pretty  soon  —  I  calculated  I  'd  walked  about 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  —  the  rope  grew  slack ;  all  of  a  sud 
den  the  laughin'  'n'  screamin'  stopped,  'n'  I  —  walked 


60  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

right  off  the  bank  into  the  big  pool  down  under  the  pines, 
ker  —  splash  !  'n'  the  children,  after  they  'd  got  me  in, 
was  so  scairt  for  fear  I  'd  lose  my  breath  —  I  could  n't 
drown  coz  there  was  n't  more  than  five  feet  of  water  in  it 
—  that  they  hauled  on  the  rope  with  all  their  might,  'n' 
pulled  me  out ;  V  I  let  'em  pull,"  said  Chi,  grimly. 

"I  hope  they  were  satisfied  after  that,"  said  Hazel, 
soberly. 

"  They  appeared  to  be,"  said  Chi,  contentedly,  "  for  they 
said  I  should  be  president,  coz  I  was  so  brave.  But 
there  's  other  things  harder  to  do  than  that." 

" What  are  they,  Chi?" 

"  You  've  got  to  keep  the  by-laws." 

"  What  are  those  ?  " 

"  Rules  of  the  Society.  One  of  'em  's,  you  must  n't  be 
afraid  to  tell  the  truth.  'N'  another  is,  you  must  be  scairt 
to  tell  a  lie." 

Hazel  grew  scarlet  at  her  own  thoughts. 

"  Another  is,  to  help  other  folks  all  you  can ;  'n'  the 
fourth  'n'  last  is,  that  no  boy  or  girl  as  lives  in  this  great, 
free  country  of  ours  ought  to  be  a  coward." 

Hazel  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  Those  must  be  hard  to  keep." 

"  Well,  they  ain't  always  easy,  that 's  a  fact ;  but  they  re 
mighty  good  to  live  by,"  he  added,  picking  up  the  bean- 
bag.  "  I  lived  with  Ben  Blossom's  father  when  I  was  a 
little  chap  as  chore  boy,  'n'  he  gave  me  my  schoolin'  'n' 
clothes;  'n'  I  've  lived  with  his  son  ever  since  he  was  mar 
ried,  'n'  he 's  been  the  best  friend  a  man  could  have,  'n' 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  61 

I  've  always  got  along  with  him  in  peace  and  lovin'-kind- 
ness ;  'n'  those  four  by-laws  his  father  wrote  on  my  boy 
hood  ;  'n'  by  those  four  by-laws  I  've  kept  my  manhood ; 
'n'  so  I  think  it  '11  do  anybody  good  to  join  the  Society." 

"  Well,"  said  Hazel,  stoutly,  "  I  '11  show  them  I  'in  not 
afraid  of  some  things,  if  I  did  run  away  from  the  turkey- 
gobbler." 

"That's  right,"  said  Chi,  heartily,  " 'n'  more  than  that 
—  betwixt  you  'n'  me  — you  've  no  cause  to  be  scairt  what 
ever  they  do ;  now  mark  my  words,  whatever  they  do," 
repeated  Chi,  emphatically. 

"  I  don't  care  what  they  do  so  long  as  you  're  there,  Chi," 
said  Hazel,  looking  up  into  his  weather-roughened,  deeply- 
lined  face  with  such  utter  trust  in  her  great  eyes  that  Chi 
caught  up  the  bag  over  his  shoulder  and  hurried  out  to 
the  barn,  muttering  to  himself :  — 

"  George  Washin'ton  !  How  she  manages  to  creep  into 
the  softest  corner  of  a  man's  heart,  I  don't  know ;  I  ex 
pect  it 's  those  great  eyes  of  hers,  'n'  that  voice  just  like  a 
brook  winnerm'  'n'  gurglin'  over  its  stones  in  August.  — 
Guess  there  's  luck  come  to  this  house  with  Lady-bird  !  " 
And  he  went  about  his  work. 


VII 

THE  N.   B.   B.   O.   O.   SOCIETY 

"  Now,  Hazel,  we  're  ready,"  said  Rose,  after  the  dinner 
dishes  had  been  washed  and  the  children's  time  was 
their  own.  Hazel  submitted  meekly  to  the  blindfolding 
process. 

She  had  tried  in  vain  to  find  out  something  of  what  the 
children  intended  to  do,  but  they  were  too  clever  for  her 
to  gain  the  smallest  hint  as  to  the  initiation.  March  had 
been  busy  in  the  ice-house,  and  Cherry  had  been  ironing 
the  aprons  for  the  family,  —  that  was  her  Saturday  morn 
ing  duty.  Budd  and  the  St.  Bernard  puppy  were  off  with 
Chi  in  the  fields. 

Rose  led  her  through  the  woodshed  and  out  of  doors  — 
Hazel  knew  that  by  the  rush  of  soft  air  that  met  her  face 
—  and  away,  somewhither.  At  last  she  was  helped  to 
climb  a  ladder ;  Chi's  hand  grasped  hers,  and  she  felt  the 
flooring  under  her  feet.  Then  she  was  left  without  sup 
port  of  any  kind,  not  daring  to  move  with  Chi's  story  in 
her  thoughts. 

"  Guess  we  '11  have  the  roll-call  first,"  said  Chi,  solemnly. 
There  was  not  a  sound  to  be  heard  except  now  and  then 
a  rush  of  wings  and  the  twitter  of  swallows. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  63 

"  Molly  Stark." 

"  Here,"  said  Rose. 

"  Markis  de  Lafayette." 

"  Here,''  from  March. 

"  Marthy  Washin'ton." 

"  Present,"  said  Cherry,  forgetting  she  was  not  in  school. 
Budd  snickered,  and  the  president  called  him  to  order. 

"Fine  of  two  cents  for  snickerin'  in  meetin'."  Budd 
looked  sober. 

"  Ethan  Allen." 

"  Here,"  said  Budd,  in  a  subdued  voice. 

"  Old  Put,  —  Here,"  said  Chi,  addressing  and  answering 
himself.  "  Now,  Markis,  read  the  by-laws. " 

"  Number  One.  —  We  pledge  ourselves  not  to  be  afraid 
to  tell  the  truth." 

"  Number  Two. —  We  pledge  ourselves  to  be  afraid  to 
tell  a  lie. 

"  Number  Three.  —  We  pledge  ourselves  to  try  to  help 
others  whenever  we  can,  wherever  we  can,  however  we 
can,  as  long  as  ever  we  can. 

"  Number  Four.  —  We,  as  American  boys  and  girls, 
pledge  ourselves  never  to  play  the  coward  nor  to  disgrace 
our  country." 

"  Molly  Stark,  unfurl  the  flag,"  said  Chi. 

Hazel  heard  a  rustle  as  Rose  unrolled  the  banner  of  soft 
red,  white,  and  blue  cambric. 

"  Put  Old  Glory  round  the  candidate's  shoulders,"  com 
manded  the  president,  and  Hazel  felt  the  soft  folds  being 
draped  about  her. 


64  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  There  now,  Lady-bird,  you  're  dressed  as  pretty  as 
you  're  ever  goin'  to  be  ;  it  don't  make  a  mite  of  difference 
whether  you  're  the  Empress  of  Rooshy,  or  just  plain 
every-day  folks ;  'n'  now  you  've  got  that  rig  on,  we  're 
ready  to  give  you  the  hand  of  fellowship.  Markis,  you 
have  the  floor." 

"  What  name  does  the  candidate  wish  to  be  known  by  ?  " 
asked  March,  with  due  gravity ;  then,  forgetting  his  role, 
he  added,  "  You  must  take  the  name  of  some  woman  who 
has  been  just  as  brave  as  she  could  be." 

Hazel,  feeling  the  folds  of  the  flag  about  her,  suddenly 
recalled  her  favorite  poem  of  Whittier's. 

"  Barbara  Frietchie,"  she  said  promptly  and  firmly. 

The  various  members  shouted  and  cheered  themselves 
hoarse  before  order  was  restored. 

"What'd  I  tell  you,  Budd?"  said  Chi,  triumphantly ; 
then  there  was  another  shout,  for  Chi  had  broken  the  rules 
in  speaking  thus. 

"  Two  cents'  fine  !  "  shouted  Budd,  "  for  speaking  out 
of  order  in  meeting." 

"  Sho  !  I  forgot,"  said  Chi,  humbly ;  "  well,  proceed." 

"  Do  you,  Barbara  Frietchie,  pledge  yourself  to  try  to 
keep  these  by-laws?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Hazel,  but  rather  tremulously. 

"  Well,  then,  we  '11  put  you  to  the  test.  Molly  Stark 
will  extend  the  first  hand  of  fellowship  to  Barbara  Friet 
chie  —  No,  hold  out  your  hand,  Hazel ;  way  out  —  don't 
you  draw  it  back  that  way  !  " 

"  I  did  n't,"  retorted  Hazel. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  65 

"  Yes,  you  did,  I  saw  you !  " 

"You  didn't,  either." 

"  I  did." 

"You  did  n't." 

"  I  did,  too." 

"  He  did  n't,  did  he,  Chi  ?  "  said  Hazel,  furious  at  this 
charge  of  apparent  timidity. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  drew  it  back  even  if  March  does 
think  he  saw  you,"  said  Chi,  pouring  oil  both  ways  on  the 
troubled  waters ;  "  V  I  never  thought  't  was  just  the  thing 
for  a  boy  to  tell  a  girl  she  was  a  coward  before  she'd 
proved  to  be  one  —  specially  if  he  belongs  to  this  Society." 

The  Marquis  de  Lafayette  hung  his  head  at  this  rebuke ; 
but  in  the  action  his  cocked  hat  of  black  and  gilt  paper 
lurched  forward  and  drew  off  with  it  his  white  cotton-wool 
wig.  Budd  and  Cherry,  forgetting  all  rules,  fines,  and 
sense  of  propriety,  rolled  over  and  over  at  the  sight ;  Rose 
sat  down  shaking  with  laughter,  and  even  Chi  lost  his 
dignity. 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me  see,  or  do  something,"  said 
Hazel,  plaintively,  when  she  could  make  herself  heard. 

"  'T  ain't  fair  to  keep  Hazel  waiting  so,"  declared  Budd, 
and  the  president  called  the  meeting  to  order  again. 

"  Put  out  your  hand,  Hazel,"  said  Rose.     "  Now  shake." 

Hazel  grasped  a  hand,  cold,  deathly  cold,  and  clammy. 
The  chill  of  the  rigid  fingers  sent  a  corresponding  shiver 
down  the  length  of  her  backbone,  and  the  goose-flesh  rose 
all  over  her  arms  and  legs.  She  thought  she  must  shriek  ; 
but  she  recalled  Chi's  words,  set  her  teeth  hard,  and  shook 

5 


66  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

the  awful  thing  with  what  strength  she  had,  never  uttering 
a  sound. 

"  Bully  for  you,  Hazel !  I  knew  you  'd  show  lots  of 
pluck,"  cried  Budd. 

"  Got  grit  every  time,"  said  Chi,  proudly.  "  Now  let 's 
have  the  other  test  and  get  down  to  business.  Guess  all 
three  of  you  '11  have  to  have  a  finger  in  this  pie.  Hurry 
up,  Marthy  Washin'ton ! "  Cherry  scuttled  down  the 
ladder,  and  in  a  few  minutes  labored,  panting,  up  again. 

"  What  did  you  bring  two  for  ?  "  demanded  Budd. 

"  'Cause  March  said  't  would  balance  me  better  on  the 
ladder,"  replied  Cherry,  innocently.  At  which  explanation 
Chi  laughed  immoderately,  much  to  Cherry's  discomfiture. 

"  Now,  Hazel,  roll  up  your  sleeve  and  hold  out  your  bare 
arm,"  said  the  Marquis.  Hazel  obeyed,  wondering  what 
would  come  next. 

"  Here,  Budd,  you  hold  it ;  all  ready,  Cherry  ?  " 

"  Ye-es —  wait  a  minute ;  now  it 's  all  right." 

"  This   we    call    burning    in    the    Society's    brand,  - 
N.  B.  B.  O.  O. ;  "   the  voice  of  the  Marquis  was  solemn, 
befitting  the  occasion. 

Hazel  drew  her  breath  sharply,  uncertain  whether  to  cry 
out  or  not.  There  was  a  sharp  sting  across  her  arm,  as  if 
a  hot  curling-iron  had  been  drawn  quickly  across  it ;  then 
a  sound  of  sizzling  flesh,  and  the  odor  of  broiled  beefsteak 
rose  up  just  under  her  nostrils. 

There  was  a  diabolical  thud  of  falling  flat-irons ;  Rose 
tore  the  bandage  from  Hazel's  eyes,  and  the  bewildered 
candidate  for  membership,  when  her  eyes  grew  somewhat 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  67 

wonted  to  the  dim  light,  found  herself  in  a  corner  of  the 
loft  in  the  barn,  with  the  elegant  figure  of  the  Marquis  in 
cocked  hat,  white  wig,  yellow  vest,  blue  coat,  and  yellow 
knee-breeches  dancing  frantically  around  her  ;  Ethan  Allen 
in  white  woollen  shirt,  red  yarn  suspenders,  and  red,  white, 
and  blue  striped  trousers,  turning  back-hand  somersaults 
on  the  hay ;  Chi  standing  at  salute  with  his  great-great 
grandfather's  Revolutionary  musket,  his  old  straw  hat 
decorated  with  a  tricolor  cockade,  and  Cherry  in  a  white 
cotton- wool  wig,  a  dark  calico  dress  of  her  mother's  and  a 
white  neckerchief,  flat  on  the  floor  beside  two  six-pound 
flatrirons. 

A  piece  of  raw  beef  on  a  tin  pan,  some  bits  of  ice,  and  a 
kid  glove  stuffed  with  ice  and  sawdust,  lay  scattered  about. 
They  told  the  tale  of  the  initiation. 

"  Three  cheers  for  Barbara  Frietchie  ! "  shouted  Budd, 
as  he  came  right  side  up.  The  barn  rang  with  them. 

"  Now  we  '11  give  the  right  hand  of  true  fellowship,"  said 
Chi,  rapping  with  the  butt  of  his  musket  for  order. 

Rose  gave  Hazel's  hand  a  squeeze.  "  I  'm  so  glad  you  're 
to  be  one  of  us,"  she  said  heartily;  and  Hazel  squeezed 
back. 

March  came  forward,  bowed  low,  and  said,  "  I  apologize 
for  my  distrust  of  }^our  pluck,"  and  held  out  his  hand  with 
a  look  in  the  flashing  gray  eyes  that  was  not  one  of  mock 
ery  ;  indeed,  he  looked  glad,  but  never  a  word  of  welcome 
did  he  speak. 

"  I  could  flog  that  proud  feller,"  muttered  Chi  to  him 
self. 


68  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Hazel  hesitated  a  moment,  then  put  out  her  hand  a  little 
reluctantly.  March  caught  the  gesture  and  her  look. 

"  Oh,  you  're  not  obliged  to,"  he  said  haughtily,  and 
turned  on  his  heel.  But  Hazel  put  her  hand  on  his 
arm. 

"  I  'm  afraid  we  are  both  breaking  some  of  the  by-laws, 
March.  I  do  want  to  shake  hands,  but  I  was  thinking 
just  then  that  you  did  n't  mean  the  apology — not  really 
and  truly  ;  and  if  you  did  mean  it,  there  was  something 
else  you  needed  to  apologize  for  more  than  that ! " 

March  flushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair.  Then  his  boy's 
honor  came  to  the  rescue. 

"  I  do  want  to  now,  Hazel  —  and  forgive  and  forget, 
won't  you?"  he  said,  with  the  winning  smile  he  inherited 
from  his  father,  but  which  he  kept  for  rare  occasions. 

Hazel  put  her  hand  in  his,  and  felt  that  this  had  been 
worth  waiting  for.  She  knew  that  at  last  March  had 
taken  her  in. 

Budd  gripped  with  all  his  might,  Cherry  shook  with  two 
fingers,  and  Chi's  great  hand  closed  over  hers  as  tenderly 
as  a  woman's  would  have  done. 

This  was  Hazel's  initiation  into  the  Nobody's  Business 
But  Our  Own  Society.  It  was  the  second  meeting  of  the 
year. 

"  Now,  March,  I  '11  make  you  chairman  and  ask  you  to 
state  the  business  of  this  meetin',  as  you  've  called  it. 
Must  be  mighty  important  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  replied  March,  gravely,  all  the  fun  dying 
out  of  his  face.  "You  remember,  all  of  you,  —  don't 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  69 

you  ?  —  what  mother  told  us  that  night  she  said  Hazel  was 
coming?  " 

"  Yes,"  chorussect  the  children. 

"  Well,  I  've  been  thinking  and  thinking  ever  since  how 
I  could  help  — " 

"  So  've  I,  March,"  interrupted  Rose. 

"  And  I  have,  too,"  said  Budd. 

"  What 's  all  this  mean  ?  "  said  Chi,  somewhat  aston 
ished,  for  he  had  not  known  why  the  meeting  had  been 
called. 

"  Why,  you  see,  Chi,  we  never  knew  till  then  that  the 
farm  had  been  mortgaged  on  account  of  father's  sickness, 
and  that  it  had  been  so  awful  hard  for  mother  all  this 
year  — 

Chi  cleared  his  throat. 

"  —  And  we  want  to  do  something  to  help  earn.  If  we 
could  earn  just  our  own  clothes  and  books  and  enough  to 
pay  for  our  schooling,  it  would  be  something." 

"  Guess  't  would,"  said  Chi,  clearing  his  throat  again. 
"  Kind  of  workin'  out  the  third  by-law,  ain't  you  ?  " 

"  Trying  to,"  answered  March,  with  such  sincerity  in  his 
voice  that  Chi's  throat  troubled  him  for  full  a  minute. 
"  And  what  I  want  to  find  out,  without  mother's  knowing 
it,  or  father  either,  is  how  we  can  earn  enough  for  those 
things.  If  anybody  's  got  anything  to  say,  just  speak  up." 

"  What  you  goin'  to  do  with  those  Wyandottes  ?  " 

"  I  knew  you  'd  ask  that,  Chi.  I  'm  going  to  raise  a 
fine  breed  and  sell  the  eggs  at  a  dollar  and  a  half  for  thir 
teen;  but  I  can't  get  any  chicken-money  till  next  fall, 


TO  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

and  no  egg-money  till  next  spring,  and  I  want  to  begin 
now." 

"  Hm  —  "  said  Chi,  taking  off  his  straw  hat  and  slowly 
scratching  his  head.  "  Well,"  he  said  after  a  pause 
in  which  all  were  thinking  and  no  one  talking,  "  why  don't 
all  of  you  go  to  work  raisin'  chickens  for  next  Thanks- 
givin'?  " 

"  By  cracky  !  "  said  Budd,  "  we  could  raise  three  or  four 
hundred,  an'  fat  'em  up,  an'  make  a  pile,  easy  as  nothing." 

"I  don't  know  about  it's  bein'  so  easy;  but  children 
have  the  time  to  tend  'em,  and  I  don't  see  why  it  won't 
work,  seem'  it 's  a  good  time  of  year." 

"  But  where  '11  we  get  the  hens  to  set,  Chi  ?  "  said  March. 

"  Oh,  there  's  enough  of  'em  settin'  round  now  on  the 
bare  boards,"  Chi  replied. 

"  Can  I  raise  some,  too?  "  asked  Hazel,  rather  timidly. 

"  Don't  know  what  there  is  to  hinder,"  said  Chi,  with 
a  slow  smile. 

"  And  can  I  buy  some  hens  for  my  very  own  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  you  can ;  just  say  the  word,  'n'  you 
'n'  I  '11  go  settin'-hen  hunting  within  a  day  or  so." 

"  Oh,  what  fun !  "  cried  Hazel,  clapping  her  hands. 
"But  I  want  some  that  will  sit  and  lay  too,  Chi;  then  I 
can  sell  the  eggs." 

There  was  a  shout  of  laughter,  at  which  Hazel  felt  hurt. 

"  There  now,  Lady-bird,  we  won't  laugh  at  your  city 
ways  of  lookin'  at  things  any  more.  The  hens  ain't  quite 
so  accommodatin'  as  that,  but  we  11  get  some  good  setters 
first,  'n'  then  see  about  the  layin'  afterwards." 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  71 

"  But,  Chi,  it  will  take  such  a  lot  of  corn  to  fatten  them. 
We  don't  want  to  ask  father  for  anything." 

"  That 's  right,  Rose.  Be  independent  as  long  as  you 
can ;  I  thought  of  that,  too.  Now,  there  's  a  whole  acre 
on  the  south  slope  I  ploughed  this  spring,  —  nice,  hot  land, 
just  right  for  corn-raisin' ;  'n'  if  you  children  '11  drop  'n' 
cover,  I  '11  help  you  with  the  hoein'  'n'  cuttin'  'n'  huskin'  ; 
'n'  you  '11  have  your  corn  for  nothin'." 

"  Good  for  you,  Chi ;  we  '11  do  it,  won't  we  ? "  cried 
March. 

"  You  bet,"  said  Budd. 

"  I  can  pick  berries,"  said  Rose,  "  and  we  can  always 
sell  them  at  the  Inn,  or  at  Barton's  River." 

"  Yes,  and  we  can  begin  in  June,"  said  Cherry ;  "  the 
pastures  are  just  red  with  the  wild  strawberries,  you  know, 
Rose." 

"  It 's  an  awful  sight  of  work  to  pick  'em,"  said  Budd, 
rather  dubiously. 

"  Well,  you  can't  get  your  money  without  workin', 
Budd ;  'n'  work  don't  mean  '  take  it  easy.'  " 

"  I  'm  sure  we  can  get  twenty-five  cents  a  quart  for  them 
right  in  the  village.  I  've  heard  folks  say  they  make  the 
best  preserve  you  can  get,  and  you  can't  buy  them  for  love 
nor  money,"  said  Rose.  "  Mother  makes  beautiful  ones." 

"  Was  n't  that  what  we  had  last  Sunday  night  when  the 
minister  was  here  to  tea  ?  "  asked  Hazel. 

"  Yes,"  said  Rose. 

"  I  never  tasted  any  strawberries  like  them  at  home,  and 
the  housekeeper  buys  lots  of  jams  and  jellies  in  the  fall." 


72  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Hazel  thought  hard  for  a  minute.  Suddenly  she  jumped 
to  her  feet,  clapped  her  hands,  and  spun  round  and  round 
like  a  top,  crying  out,  "  I  have  it !  I  have  it !  " 

The  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  Society  was  amazed  to  see  the  new 
member  perform  in  this  lively  manner,  for  Hazel  had  been 
rather  quiet  during  the  first  month.  Now  she  caught  up 
her  skirts  with  a  dainty  tilt,  and  danced  the  Highland 
Fling  just  to  let  her  spirits  out  through  her  feet.  Up  and 
down  the  floor  of  the  loft  she  charged,  hands  over  her  head, 
hands  swinging  her  skirts,  light  as  a  fairy,  bending,  sway 
ing,  and  bowing,  till,  with  a  big  "cheese,"  she  sat  down 
almost  breathless  by  Chi.  Was  this  Hazel  ?  The  members 
of  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  looked  at  one  another  in  amazement, 
and  March's  eyes  flashed  again,  as  they  had  done  once 
before  during  the  afternoon. 

"  Now  all  listen  to  me,"  she  said,  as  if,  after  a  month  of 
silence,  she  had  found  her  tongue.  "  I  've  an  idea,  and 
when  I  have  one,  papa  says  it 's  worth  listening  to,  —  which 
is  n't  often,  I  'm  sure.  We  '11  pick  the  strawberries,  and 
get  Mrs.  Blossom  to  show  Rose  how  to  do  them  up ;  and 
I  '11  write  to  papa  and  Doctor  Heath's  wife  and  to  our 
housekeeper  and  Cousin  Jack,  and  see  if  they  don't  want 
some  of  those  delicious  preserves  that  they  can't  get  in  the 
city.  I  '11  find  out  from  Mrs.  Scott  —  that 's  the  house 
keeper  —  how  much  she  pays  for  a  jar  in  New  York,  and 
then  we  '11  charge  a  little  more  for  ours  because  the  straw 
berries  are  a  little  rarer.  Are  n't  there  any  other  kinds  of 
berries  that  grow  around  here  ?  " 

"  Guess  you  'd  better  stop  'n'  take  breath,  Lady-bird ; 


' 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  73 

there  's  a  mighty  lot  of  plannin'  in  all  that.  What  'd  I 
tell  you,  Budd?"  Chi  asked  again. 

Bucld  looked  at  Hazel  in  boyish  admiration,  but  said 
nothing. 

"I  think  that's  splendid,  Hazel,"  said  Rose,  "if  they'll 
only  want  them." 

"  I  know  they  will ;  but  are  there  any  other  berries  ?  " 

"  Berries !  I  should  think  so ;  raspberries  and  black 
berries  by  the  bushel  on  the  Mountain,  and  they  say  they  're 
the  best  anywhere  round  here,"  said  March. 

"  Oh,  dear !  "  sighed  Cherry,  "  I  wish  we  could  go  to 
work  right  now." 

"  Well,  so  you  can,"  said  Chi,  "  only  you  can't  go  berryin' 
just  yet.  You  can  begin  to  drop  that  corn  this  very  after 
noon  ;  better  be  inside  the  ground  pretty  soon,  with  all 
those  four  hundred  chickens  waitin'  to  join  the  Thanks- 
givin'  procession." 

"  Oh,  Chi,  you  're  making  fun  of  us,"  laughed  Rose. 

"  Don't  you  believe  it,  Rose-pose ;  never  was  more  in 
earnest  in  my  life.  Come  along,  'n'  I  '11  show  you." 


VIII 

A   LIVELY   CORRESPONDENCE 

IT  was  a  trial  of  patience  to  have  to  wait  twenty-one 
days  before  the  first  of  the  "  four  hundred "  could  be 
expected  to  appear. 

"  You  '11  have  to  be  kind  of  careful  'bout  steppin'  round 
in  the  dark,  Mis'  Blossom,  'n'  you,  too,  Ben,"  said  Chi, 
"  for  you  '11  find  a  settin'  hen  most  anywheres  nowadays." 

Mrs.  Blossom  laughed.  "  Oh,  Chi,  what  dear  children 
they  are,  even  if  they  aren't  quite  perfect." 

"  Can't  be  beat,"  replied  Chi,  earnestly.  "  Look  at  them 
now,  will  you  ?  " 

Mrs.  Blossom  stepped  out  on  the  porch,  and  looked  over 
to  the  south  slope  and  the  corn-patch.  "  What  if  her 
father  were  to  see  her  now !  "  She  laughed  again,  both 
at  her  thoughts  and  the  sight. 

"  'T  would  give  him  kind  of  a  shock  at  first,"  Chi 
chuckled,  "  but  he  'd  get  over  it  as  soon  as  he  'd  seen 
that  face." 

"•It  is  wonderful  how  she  has  improved.  I  shouldn't 
be  surprised  if  he  came  up  here  soon  to  see  Hazel." 

"  Well,  he  '11  find  somethin'  worth  lookin'  at.  See  there, 
now !  " 

The  girls  had  been  making  scarecrows  to  protect  the 
young  corn,  stuffing  old  shirts  and  trousers  with  hay  and 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  75 

straw,  while  March  and  Budd  had  been  getting  ready  the 
cross-tree  frames.  In  dropping  and  covering  the  corn  that 
Saturday  afternoon  after  the  initiation,  the  girls  had  found 
their  skirts  and  petticoats  not  only  in  the  way  as  they  bent 
over  their  work,  but  greatly  soiled  by  contact  with  the 
soft,  damp  loam.  So  they  had  begged  to  wear  overalls  of 
blue  denim  like  Chi's  and  the  boys'.  The  request  had 
been  gladly  granted.  "  It  will  save  no  end  of  washing," 
said  Mrs.  Blossom,  and  forthwith  made  up  three  pairs  on 
the  machine. 

The  girls  found  it  great  fun.  They  tucked  in  their 
petticoats  and  buttoned  down  their  shoulder-straps  with 
right  good  will.  Then  Mr.  Blossom  presented  them  with 
broad,  coarse  straw  hats,  such  as  he  and  Chi  used,  and 
with  these  on  their  heads  they  rushed  off  to  the  corn- 
patch.  There  now  they  were,  —  five  good-looking  boys 
with  hands  joined,  dancing  and  capering  around  a  scare 
crow,  that  looked  like  a  gentleman  tramp  gone  entirely  to 
seed,  and  singing  at  the  top  of  their  voices  Budd's  favorite, 
"  I  won't  play  in  your  back  yard." 

At  that  very  hour,  when  the  gentleman  scarecrow  of 
the  corn-patch  was  looking  amiably,  although  slightly 
squint-eyed,  out  from  under  his  tattered  straw  hat  (for 
March  had  drawn  rude  features  on  the  white  cloth  bag 
stuffed  with  cotton-wool  which  served  for  a  head,  and  on 
it  Rose  had  sewed  skeins  of  brown  yarn  to  imitate  hair) 
at  the  antics  of  the  five  pairs  of  blue  overalls,  Mr.  Clyde, 
having  finished  his  nine  o'clock  breakfast,  asked  for  the 
mail. 


76  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Yes,  Marse  John  "  (so  Wilkins  always  called  Mr.  Clyde 
when  they  were  alone),  "  'spect  dere  's  one  from  Miss 
Hazel  by  de  feel  an'  de  smell." 

Mr.  Clyde  smiled.  "  How  can  you  tell  by  the  '  feel  and 
the  smell,'  Wilkins?" 

"  Case  it 's  bunchy  lake  in  de  middle,  an'  de  vi'lets  can't 
hide  dere  bref." 

"  Well,  we  '11  see,"  said  Mr.  Clyde,  willing  to  indulge 
his  faithful  servant's  childish  curiosity.  Wilkins  busied 
himself  quietly  about  the  breakfast-room. 

As  Mr.  Clyde  opened  the  envelope,  the  crushed  blue 
and  white  violets  fell  out.  Suddenly  he  burst  into  such 
a  hearty  laugh  that  Wilkins  had  hard  work  to  suppress 
a  sympathetic  chuckle. 

"  I  shall  have  to  carry  this  letter  over  to  the  Doctor, 
Wilkins,"  he  said,  still  laughing.  "  I  shall  be  in  time  to 
find  him  a  few  minutes  alone  before  office  hours."  He 
rose  from  the  table. 

Wilkins  followed  him  out  to  give  his  coat  a  last  touch 
with  the  brush ;  he  was  fearful  Mr.  Clyde  might  leave 
without  revealing  anything  of  the  contents  of  the  letter 
from  his  beloved  Miss  Hazel. 

"  'Scuse  me,  Marse  John,"  he  said  in  desperation,  as 
Mr.  Clyde  went  towards  the  front  door,  "  but  Miss  Hazel 
ain't  no  wusser  case  yo*  goin'  to  de  Doctah's  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Wilkins,  I  forgot ;  you  want  to  know  how  Miss 
Hazel  is.  She  is  doing  finely;  as  happy  as  a  bird,  and 
sends  her  love  to  you  in  a  postscript.  I  think  I  '11  run  up 
and  see  her  soon." 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  77 

Wilkins  ducked  and  beamed.  "  'Pears  lake  dis  yere 
house  ain't  de  same  place  wif  de  little  missus  gone." 

"  You  're  right,  Wilkins,"  said  Mr.  Clyde,  earnestly.  "  I 
shall  not  open  the  Newport  cottage  this  year ;  it  would 
be  too  lonesome  without  her." 

"  Well,  Dick,"  he  said  gayly,  as  he  entered  the  Doctor's 
office,  "  I  shall  hold  you  responsible  for  some  of  the  lives 
of  the  '  Four  Hundred.'  Here,  read  this  letter." 

MOUNT  HUNGER,  MILL  SETTLEMENT,  BARTON'S 
RIVER,   VERMONT,  May  19,  1896. 

DEAREST  PAPA,  —  Good-morning!  I  am  answering  your 
long  letter  a  little  sooner  than  I  expected  to,  because  I  want 
you  to  do  something  for  me  in  a  business  way ;  that 's  the  way 
March  says  it  must  be. 

I  don't  know  how  to  begin  to  tell  you,  but  I  've  joined  the 
N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  Society  and  one  of  the  by-laws  is  that  we  must 
help  others  all  we  can  and  just  as  much  as  we  can.  I  wish 
you  'd  been  at  the  initiashun.  (I  don't  know  about  that  spell 
ing,  and  I  'm  in  a  hurry,  or  I  'd  ask.)  I  had  the  hand  of  fel 
lowship  from  a  supposed  corpse's  hand  first,  and  then  I  was 
branded  on  the  arm.  And  afterwards  they  all  took  me  in,  and 
now  we  're  raising  four  hundred  chickens  to  help  others ;  I  '11 
tell  you  all  about  it  when  you  come.  Chi,  that's  the  hired 
man,  but  he  is  really  our  friend,  took  me  sitting-hen  hunting 
day  before  yesterday,  for  I  am  to  own  some  myself ;  and  we 
drove  all  over  the  hills  to  the  farmhouses  and  found  and  bought 
twelve,  or  rather  Chi  did,  for  I  had  to  borrow  the  money  of 
him,  as  I  felt  so  bad  when  I  kissed  you  good-bye  that  I  forgot 
to  tell  you  my  quarterly  allowance  was  all  gone,  and  I  know 
you  won't  like  my  borrowing  of  Chi,  for  you  have  said  so 
many  times  never  to  owe  anybody  and  I've  always  tried  to  pay 


78  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

foi'  everything  except  when  I  had  to  borrow  of  Gabrielle,  or 
Mrs.  Scott,  when  I  forgot  my  purse. 

But  truly  the  hens  were  in  such  an  awful  hurry  to  sit,  that 
it  did  seem  too  bad  to  keep  them  waiting  even  three  days  till 
I  could  get  some  money  from  you ;  and  then,  too,  we  've  all 
of  us,  March  and  Rose  and  Budd  and  Cherry  and  me,  bet  on 
which  hen  would  get  the  first  chicken,  and  that  chicken  is  going 
to  be  a  prize  chicken  and  especially  fatted,  and  of  course,  if  I 
waited  for  the  money  to  come  from  you,  I  could  n't  stand  a 
chance  of  coming  out  ahead  in  our  four  hundred  chicken  race, 
so  I  borrowed  of  Chi.  The  hens  came  to  just  $4  and  eighty 
cents.  I'll  pay  you  back  when  I  earn  it,  and  don't  you  think 
it  would  have  been  a  pity  to  lose  the  chance  for  the  prize 
chicken  just  for  that  borrow? 

Please  send  the  money  by  return  mail.     I  Ve  other  letters 
to  write,  so  please  excuse  my  not  paragraphing  and  so  little 
punctuation,  but  I  've  so  much  to  do  and  this  must  go  at  once. 
Your  loving  and  devoted  daughter, 

HAZEL  CLYDE. 

P.  S.  The  hens  are  sitting  around  everywhere.  Give  my 
love  to  Wilkins.  H.  C. 

The  Doctor  shouted ;  then  he  stepped  to  the  dining-room 
door  and  called,  "  Wifie,  come  here  and  bring  that  letter.'* 

Mrs.  Heath  came  in  smiling,  with  a  letter  in  her  hand, 
which,  after  cordially  greeting  Mr.  Clyde,  she  read  to  him, 
—  an  amazed  and  outwitted  father. 

MOUNT  HUNGER,  MILL  SETTLEMENT,  BARTON'S 
RIVER,  VERMONT,  May  19,  1896. 

MY  DEAR  MRS.  HEATH, — Please  thank  my  dear  Doctor 
Heath  for  the  note  he  sent  me  two  weeks  ago.  I  ought  to 
write  to  him  instead  of  to  you,  for  I  don't  owe  you  a  letter 
(your  last  one  was  so  sweet  I  answered  it  right  off),  but  he 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  79 

never  allows  his  patients  strawberry  preserve  and  jam,  so  it 
would  be  no  use  to  ask  his  help  just  now,  as  this  is  pure 
business,  March  says. 

We  are  trying  to  help  others,  and  the  strawberries  —  wild 
ones — are  as  thick  as  spatter — 'going  to  be  —  all  over  the 
pastures,  and  we  're  going  to  pick  quarts  and  quarts,  and  Rose 
is  going  to  preserve  them,  and  then  we  're  going  to  sell  them. 

Do  you  think  of  anybody  who  would  like  some  of  this  pre 
serve?  If  you  do,  will  you  kindly  let  me  know  by  return  mail? 

I  can't  tell  just  the  price,  and  March  says  that  is  a  great 
drawback  in  real  business,  and  this  is  real  —  but  it  will  not  be 
more  than  SI  and  twenty-five  cents  a  quart.  They  will  be  fine 
for  luncheon.  /  never  tasted  any  half  so  good  at  home. 

My  dear  love  to  the  Doctor  and  a  large  share  for  yourself  from 

Your  loving  friend, 

HAZEL  CLYDE. 

P.  S.  Rose  says  it  is  n't  fair  for  people  to  order  without 
knowing  the  quality,  so  we  've  done  up  a  little  of  Mrs.  Blossom's 
in  some  Homeepatic  (I  don't  know  where  that  "h"  ought  to 
come  in)  pellet  bottles,  and  will  send  you  a  half-dozen  "  for 
samples,"  March  says,  to  send  to  any  one  to  taste  you  think 
would  like  to  order.  H.  C. 

"  The  cure  is  working  famously,"  said  Doctor  Heath, 
rubbing  his  hands  in  glee. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Clyde,  laughing,  "  I  may  as  well  make 
the  best  of  it ;  but  I  can't  help  wondering  whether  the 
wholesale  grocers  in  town  have  been  asked  to  place  orders 
with  Mount  Hunger,  or  the  Washington  Market  dealers 
for  prospective  chickens !  There  's  your  office-bell ;  I 
won't  keep  you  longer,  but  if  this  '  special  case  '  of  yours 
should  develop  any  new  symptoms,  just  let  me  know." 


80  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  I  '11  keep  you  informed,"  rejoined  the  Doctor.  "  Better 
run  up  there  pretty  soon,  Johnny,"  he  called  after  him. 

"  I  think  it 's  high  time,  Dick.     Good-bye." 

At  that  very  moment,  a  symptom  of  another  sort  was 
developing  in  Z •  Hall,  Number  9,  at  Harvard. 

Jack  Sherrill  and  his  chum  were  discussing  the  last 
evening's  Club  theatricals.  "  I  saw  that  pretty  Maude 
Seaton  in  the  third  or  fourth  row,  Jack ;  did  she  come  on 
for  that,  —  which,  of  course,  means  you  ?  " 

"  Wish  I  might  think  so,"  said  Jack,  half  in  earnest, 
half  in  jest,  pulling  slowly  at  his  corn-cob  pipe. 

"  By  Omar  Khayyam,  Jack !  you  don't  mean  to  say 
you  're  hit,  at  last !  " 

"  Hit,  —  yes ;  but  it 's  only  a  flesh-wound  at  present,  — 
nothing  dangerous  about  it." 

"  She  's  got  the  style,  though,  and  the  pull.  I  know  a 
half-dozen  of  the  fellows  got  dropped  on  to-night's  cotillion." 

"  Kept  it  for  me,"  said  Jack,  quietly. 

"  No,  really,  though  —  "  and  his  chum  fell  to  thinking 
rather  seriously  for  him. 

Just  then  came  the  morning's  mail,  —  notes,  letters, 
special  delivery  stamps,  all  the  social  accessories  a  popu 
lar  Harvard  man  knows  so  well.  Jack  looked  over  his 
carelessly,  —  invitations  to  dinner,  to  theatre  parties,  "  pri 
vate  views,"  golf  parties,  etc.  He  pushed  them  aside, 
showing  little  interest.  He,  like  his  Cousin  Hazel,  was 
used  to  it. 

The  morning's  mail  was  an  old  story,  for  Sherrill  was 
worth  a  fortune  in  his  own  right,  as  several  hundred 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  81 

mothers  and  daughters  in  New  York  and  Boston  and 
Philadelphia  knew  full  well. 

Moreover,  if  he  had  not  had  a  penny  in  prospect,  Jack 
Sherrill  would  have  attracted  by  his  own  manly  qualities 
and  his  exceptionally  good  looks.  His  riches,  to  which  he 
had  been  born,  had  not  as  yet  wholly  spoiled  him,  but  they 
cheated  him  of  that  ambition  that  makes  the  best  of  young 
manhood,  and  Life  was  out  of  tune  at  times  —  how  and 
why,  he  did  not  know,  and  there  was  no  one  to  tell  him. 

He  had  rather  hoped  for  a  note  from  Maude  Seaton, 
thanking  him,  in  her  own  charming  way,  for  the  flowers  he 
had  sent  her  on  her  arrival  from  New  York  the  day  before. 
True,  she  had  worn  some  in  her  corsage,  but,  for  all  Jack 
knew,  they  might  have  been  another  man's ;  for  Maude 
Seaton  was  never  known  to  have  less  than  four  or  five 
strings  to  her  bow.  It  was  just  this  uncertainty  about  her 
that  attracted  Jack. 

"  Hello  !  Here  's  a  letter  for  you  by  mistake  in  my  pile," 
said  his  chum. 

"  Why,  this  is  from  my  little  Cousin  Hazel,  who  is  rusti 
cating  just  now  somewhere  in  the  Green  Mountains."  Jack 
opened  it  hastily  and  read, — 

MOUNT  HUNGER,  MILL  SETTLEMENT,  BARTON'S 
RIVER,  VERMONT,  May  19,  1896. 

DEAREST  COUSIN  JACK,  —  It  is  perfectly  lovely  up  here,  and 
I  've  been  inishiated  iuto  a  Secret  Society  like  your  Dicky  Club, 
and  one  of  the  by-laws  is  to  help  others  all  we  can  and  wherever 
we  can  and  as  long  as  ever  we  can,  and  so  I  've  thought  of  that 
nice  little  spread  you  gave  last  year  after  the  foot-ball  game, 

6 


82  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

and  how  nice  the  table  looked  and  what  good  things  you  had, 
but  I  don't  remember  any  strawberry  jam  or  preserves,  do  you  ? 

We  're  hatching  four  hundred  chickens  to  help  others,  —  I 
mean  we  have  set  40  sitting  hens  on  520  eggs,  not  all  the  40  on 
the  five  hundred  and  twenty  at  once,  you  know ;  but,  I  mean, 
each  one  of  the  40  hens  are  sitting  on  13  eggs  apiece,  and 
March  says  we  must  expect  to  lose  120  eggs  —  I  mean,  chick 
ens,  —  as  the  hens  are  very  careless  and  sit  sideways  —  I  've 
seen  them  myself  —  and  so  an  extra  egg  is  apt  to  get  chilly, 
and  the  chickens  can't  stand  any  chilliness,  March  says.  But 
Chi,  that 's  my  new  friend,  says  some  eggs  have  a  double  yolk, 
and  maybe,  there  '11  be  some  twins  to  make  up  for  the  loss. 

Anyway,  we  want  400  chickens  to  sell  about  Thanksgiving 
time,  and,  of  course,  we  can't  get  any  money  till  that  time. 
So  now  I  've  got  back  to  your  spread  again  and  the  preserves, 
and  while  we  're  waiting  for  the  chickens,  we  are  going  to 
make  preserves  —  dee-licious  ones !  I  mean  we  are  going  to 
pick  them  and  Rose  is  going  to  preserve  them.  We  've  decided 
to  ask  Si  and  a  quarter  a  quart  for  them;  Rose  — that's  Rose 
Blossom  —  says  it  is  dear,  but  if  you  could  see  my  Rose-pose, 
as  Chi  calls  her,  you  'd  think  it  cheap  just  to  eat  them  if  she 
made  them.  She  's  perfectly  lovely  —  prettier  than  any  of  the 
New  York  girls,  and  when  she  kneads  bread  and  does  up 
the  dishes,  she  sings  like  a  bird,  something  about  love.  I'll 
write  it  down  for  you,  sometime.  /  'm  in  love  with  her. 

Please  ask  your  college  friends  if  they  don't  want  some  jam 
and  wild  strawberry  preserves.  If  they  do,  March  says  they 
had  better  order  soon,  as  I've  written  to  New  York  to  see 
about  some  other  orders. 

Yours  devotedly, 

HAZEL. 

P.  S.  I  've  sent  you  a  sample  of  the  strawberry  preserve  in 
a  homeepahtic  pellet  bottle,  to  taste  ;  Rose  says  it  is  n't  fair  to 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  83 

ask  people  to  buy  without  their  knowing  what  they  buy.  I 
saw  that  Miss  Seaton  just  before  I  came  away ;  she  came  to 
call  on  me  and  brought  some  flowers.  She  said  I  looked  like 
you  —  which  was  an  awful  whopper  because  I  had  my  head 
shaved,  as  you  know ;  I  asked  her  if  she  had  heard  from 
you,  and  she  said  she  had.  She  is  n't  half  as  lovely  as 
Rose-pose.  H.  C. 


IX 

THE   PRIZE   CHICKEN 

THERE  was  wild  excitement,  as  well  as  consternation,  in 
the  farmhouse  on  the  Mountain. 

On  the  next  day  but  one  after  Hazel  had  sent  her 
letters,  Chi  had  brought  up  from  the  Mill  Settlement  a 
telegram  which  had  come  on  the  stage  from  Barton's.  It 
was  addressed  to,  "  Hazel  Clyde,  Mill  Settlement,  Barton's 
River,  Vermont,"  and  ran  thus  :  — 

CAMBRIDGE,  May  20,  1  P.  M. 

Hope  to  get  in  our  order  ahead  of  New  York  time.  Seven 
teen  dozen  of  each  kind.  Letter  follows. 

JACK. 

"  Seventeen  dozen !  "  screamed  Rose,  on  hearing  the 
telegram. 

"  Seventeen  dozen  of  each  kind  !  "  cried  Budd. 

"  Oh,  quick,  March,  do  see  what  it  comes  to ! "  said 
Hazel. 

Then  such  an  arithmetical  hubbub  broke  loose  as  had 
never  been  heard  before  on  the  Mountain. 

"  Seventeen  times  twelve,"  said  Rose,  —  "  let  me  see  ; 
seven  times  two  are  fourteen,  one  to  carry  —  do  keep  still, 
March  !  "  But  March  went  on  with :  — 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  85 

"  Twelve  times  four  are  forty-eight  —  seventeen  times 
forty-eight,  hm  —  seven  times  eight  are  fifty-six,  five  to 
carry —  Shut  up,  Budd;  I  can't  hear  myself  think."  But 
Budd  gave  no  heed,  and  continued  his  computation. 

"  Four  times  seventeen  are  —  four  times  seven  are 
twenty-eight,  two  to  carry  ;  four  times  one  are  four  and 
two  are  —  I  say,  you  've  put  me  all  out !  "  shouted  Budd, 
and,  putting  his  fingers  in  his  ears,  he  retired  to  a  corner. 
Rose  continued  to  mumble  with  her  eyes  shut  to  concen 
trate  her  mind  upon  her  problem,  threatening  Cherry  impa 
tiently  when  she  interrupted  with  her  peculiar  solution, 
which  she  had  just  thought  out :  — 

"If  one  quart  cost  one  dollar  and  twenty-five  cents, 
twelve  quarts  will  cost  twelve  times  one  dollar  and 
twenty-five  cents,  which  is,  er — twelve  times  one  are 
twelve ;  twelve  times  twenty-five  !  Oh,  gracious,  that 's 
awful !  What 's  twelve  times  twenty-five,  March  ?  " 

"  Shut  up,"  growled  March  ;  "  you  've  put  me  all  off  the 
track." 

"  Me,  too,"  said  Rose,  in  an  aggrieved  tone. 

Mrs.  Blossom  had  been  listening  from  the  bedroom,  and 
now  came  in,  suppressing  her  desire  to  smile  at  the  red 
dened  and  perplexed  faces.  "  Here  's  a  pencil,  March, 
suppose  you  figure  it  out  on  paper." 

A  sigh  of  relief  was  audible  throughout  the  room,  as 
March  sat  down  to  work  out  the  result.  "  Eight  hundred 
and  sixteen  quarts  at  one  dollar  twenty-five  a  quart,"  said 
March  to  himself ;  then,  with  a  bound  that  shook  the  long- 
room,  he  shouted,  "  One  thousand  and  twenty  dollars !  "  and 
therewith  broke  forth  into  singing :  — 


86  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"Glory,  glory,  halleluia! 
Glory,  glory,  halleluia! 
Glory,  glory,  halleluia, 
For  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O. !  " 

The  rest  joined  in  the  singing  with  such  goodwill  that 
the  noise  brought  in  Chi  from  the  barn.  When  he  was 
told  the  reason  for  the  rejoicing,  he  looked  thoughtful,  then 
sober,  then  troubled. 

"  What 's  the  matter,  Chi  ?  Cheer  up  !  You  have  n't 
got  to  pick  them,"  said  March. 

"  'T  ain't  that ;  but  I  hate  to  throw  cold  water  on  any 
such  countin'-your-chickens-'fore-they  're-hatched  business," 
said  Chi. 

"  'T  is  n't  chickens  ;  it 's  preserves,  Chi,"  laughed  Rose. 

"  I  know  that,  too,"  said  Chi,  gravely.  "  But  suppose  you 
do  a  little  figuring  on  the  hind-side  of  the  blackboard." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Chi  ?  "  asked  Hazel. 

"  Well,  I  '11  figure,  'n'  see  what  you  think  about  it. 
Seventeen  dozen  times  four,  how  much,  March  ? " 

"  Eight  hundred  and  sixteen." 

"Hm!  eight  hundred  and  sixteen  glass  jars  at  twelve 
and  a  half  cents  apiece  —  let  me  see :  eight  into  eight 
once;  eight  into  one  no  times  'n'  one  over.  There  now, 
your  jars  '11  cost  you  just  one  hundred  and  two  dollars." 

There  was  a  universal  groan. 

"  'N'  that  ain't  all.  Sugar  's  up  to  six  cents  a  pound, 
'n'  to  keep  preserves  as  they  ought  to  be  kept  takes  about 
a  pound  to  a  quart.  Hm,  eight  hundred  'n'  sixteen  pounds 
of  sugar  at  six  cents  a  pound  —  move  up  my  point  'n'  mul- 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  87 

tipiy  by  six  —  forty-eight  dollars  'n'  ninety-six  cents ;  added 
to  the  other  —  " 

"  Oh,  don't,  Chi !  "  groaned  one  and  all. 

"It  spoils  everything,"  said  Rose,  actually  ready  to  cry 
with  disappointment. 

"  Well,  Molly  Stark,  you  've  got  to  look  forwards  and 
backwards  before  you  promise  to  do  things,"  said  Chi, 
serenely;  and  Rose,  hearing  the  Molly  Stark,  knew  just 
what  Chi  meant. 

She  went  straight  up  to  him,  and,  laying  both  hands  on 
his  shoulders,  looked  up  smiling  into  his  face.  "  I  '11  be 
brave,  Chi ;  we  '11  make  it  work  somehow,"  she  said  gently ; 
and  Chi  was  not  ashamed  to  take  one  of  the  little  hands 
and  rub  it  softly  against  his  unshaven  cheek. 

"That's  my  Rose-pose,"  he  said.  "Now,  don't  let's 
cross  the  bridges  till  we  get  to  them ;  let 's  wait  till  we 
hear  from  New  York." 

They  had  not  long  to  wait.  The  next  day's  mail  brought 
three  letters,  —  from  Mrs.  Heath,  Mr.  Clyde,  and  Jack. 
Hazel  could  not  read  them  fast  enough  to  suit  her  audience. 
There  was  an  order  from  Mrs.  Heath  for  two  dozen  of  each 
kind,  and  the  assurance  that  she  would  ask  her  friends,  but 
she  would  like  her  order  filled  first. 

Mr.  Clyde  wrote  that  he  was  coming  up  very  soon  and 
would  advance  Hazel's  quarterly  allowance ;  at  which 
Hazel  cried,  "  Oh-ee !  "  and  hugged  first  herself,  then  Mrs. 
Blossom,  but  said  not  a  word.  She  wanted  to  surprise 
them  with  the  glass  jars  and  the  sugar.  Her  father  had 


88  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

enclosed  five  dollars  with  which  to  pay  Chi,  and  he  and 
Hazel  were  closeted  for  full  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  the 
pantry,  discussing  ways  and  means. 

Jack  wrote  enthusiastically  of  the  preserves  and  chickens, 
and,  like  Hazel,  added  a  postscript  as  follows: 

"  Don't  forget  you  said  you  would  write  down  for  me 
the  song  about  Love  that  Miss  Blossom  sings  when  she  is 
kneading  bread.  Miss  Seaton  is  just  now  visiting  in  Bos 
ton.  I  'm  to  play  in  a  polo  match  out  at  the  Longmeadow 
grounds  next  week,  and  she  stays  for  that."  This,  like 
wise,  Hazel  kept  to  herself. 

Meanwhile,  the  strawberry  blossoms  were  starring  the 
pastures,  but  only  here  and  there  a  tiny  green  button 
showed  itself.  It  was  a  discouraging  outlook  for  the  other 
Blossoms  to  wait  five  long  weeks  before  they  could  begin 
to  earn  money ;  and  the  thought  of  the  chickens,  especially 
the  prize  chicken,  proved  a  source  of  comfort  as  well  as 
speculation. 

As  the  twenty-first  day  after  setting  the  hens  drew  near, 
the  excitement  of  the  race  was  felt  to  be  increasing.  Hazel 
had  tied  a  narrow  strip  of  blue  flannel  about  the  right 
leg  of  each  of  her  twelve  hens,  that  there  might  be  no 
mistake ;  and  the  others  had  followed  her  example,  March 
choosing  yellow ;  Cherry,  white ;  Rose,  red ;  and  Budd, 
green. 

The  barn  was  near  the  house,  only  a  grass-plat  with  one 
big  elm  in  the  centre  separated  it  from  the  end  of  the 
woodshed.  As  Chi  said,  the  hens  were  sitting  all  around 
everywhere ;  on  the  nearly  empty  hay-mow  there  were 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  89 

some  twenty-five,  and  the  rest  were  in  vacant  stalls  and 
feed-boxes. 

It  was  a  warm  night  in  early  June.  Hazel  was  thinking 
over  many  things  as  she  lay  wakeful  in  her  wee  bedroom. 
To-morrow  was  the  day ;  somebody  would  get  the  prize 
chicken.  Hazel  hoped  she  might  be  the  winner.  Then 
she  recalled  something  Chi  had  said  about  hens  being 
curious  creatures,  set  in  their  ways,  and  never  doing  any 
thing  just  as  they  were  expected  to  do  it,  and  that  there 
was  n't  any  time-table  by  which  chickens  could  be  hatched 
to  the  minute.  What  if  one  were  to  come  out  to-night ! 
The  more  she  thought,  the  more  she  longed  to  assure  her 
self  of  the  condition  of  things  in  the  barn.  She  tossed 
and  turned,  but  could  not  settle  to  sleep.  At  last  she 
rose  softly ;  the  great  clock  in  the  long-room  had  just 
struck  eleven.  She  looked  out  of  her  one  window  and 
into  the  face  of  a  moon  that  for  a  moment  blinded  her. 

Then  she  quietly  put  on  her  white  bath-robe,  and,  tak 
ing  her  shoes  in  her  hand,  stepped  noiselessly  out  into 
the  kitchen. 

There  was  not  a  sound  in  the  house  except  the  ticking 
of  the  clock.  Softly  she  crept  to  the  woodshed  door  and 
slipped  out. 

Chi,  who  had  the  ears  of  an  Indian,  heard  the  soft 
"  crush,  crush,"  of  the  bark  and  chips  underneath  his  room. 
He  rose  noiselessly,  drew  on  his  trousers,  and  slipped  his 
suspenders  over  his  shoulders,  took  his  rifle  from  the  rack, 
and  crept  stealthily  as  an  Apache  down  the  stairs.  Chi 
thought  he  was  on  the  track  of  an  enormous  woodchuck 


90  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

that  had  baffled  all  his  efforts  to  trap,  shoot,  and  decoy 
him,  as  well  as  his  attempts  to  smoke  and  drown  him  out. 
But  nothing  was  moving  in  or  about  the  shed.  He  stepped 
outside,  puzzled  as  to  the  noise  he  had  heard. 

"  By  George  Washin'ton !  "  he  exclaimed  under  his 
breath,  "what's  up  now?"  for  he  had  caught  sight  of  a 
little  figure  in  white  fairly  scooting  over  the  grass-plat 
under  the  elm  towards  the  barn.  In  a  moment  she  dis 
appeared  in  the  opening,  for  on  warm  nights  the  great 
doors  were  not  shut. 

"  Guess  I  'd  better  get  out  of  the  way ;  't  would  scare 
her  to  death  to  see  a  man  'n1  a  gun  at  this  time  of  night. 
It 's  that  prize  chicken,  I  '11  bet."  And  Chi  chuckled  to 
himself.  Then  he  tiptoed  as  far  as  the  barn  door,  looked 
in  cautiously,  and,  seeing  no  one,  but  hearing  a  creak  over 
head,  he  slipped  into  a  stall  and  crouched  behind  a  pile  of 
grass  he  had  cut  that  afternoon  for  the  cattle. 

He  heard  the  feet  go  "  pat,  pat,  pat,"  overhead.  He 
knew  by  the  sound  that  Hazel  was  examining  the  nests. 
Then  another  noise  —  Cherry's  familiar  giggle  —  fell  upon 
his  ear.  He  looked  out  cautiously  from  behind  the  grass. 
Sure  enough ;  there  were  the  twins,  robed  in  sheets  and 
barefooted.  Snickering  and  giggling,  they  made  for  the 
ladder  leading  to  the  loft. 

"  The  Old  Harry  's  to  pay  to-night,"  said  Chi,  grimly,  to 
himself.  "  When  those  two  get  together  on  a  spree,  things 
generally  hum !  I  'd  better  stay  where  I  'm  needed  most." 

Hazel,  too,  had  caught  the  sound  of  the  giggle  and 
snicker,  and  recognized  it  at  once. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  91 

"  Goodness ! "  she  thought,  "  if  they  should  see  me, 
't  would  frighten  Cherry  into  fits,  she  's  so  nervous.  I  'd 
better  hide  while  they  're  here.  They  've  come  to  see 
about  that  chicken,  just  as  I  have ! "  Hazel  had  all  she 
could  do  to  keep  from  laughing  out  loud.  She  lay  down 
upon  a  large  pile  of  hay  and  drew  it  all  over  her.  "  They 
can't  see  me  now,  and  I  can  watch  them,"  she  thought, 
with  a  good  deal  of  satisfaction. 

Surely  the  proceedings  were  worth  watching.  The 
moonlight  flooded  the  flooring  of  the  loft,  and  every  detail 
could  be  plainly  seen. 

"Nobody  can  hear  us  here  if  we  do  talk,"  said  Budd. 
"  You  '11  have  to  hoist  them  up  first,  to  see  if  there  are 
any  chickens,  and  be  sure  and  look  at  the  rag  on  the 
legs ;  when  you  come  to  a  green  one,  it 's  mine,  you 
know." 

"Oh,  Budd!  I  can't  hoist  them,"  said  Cherry,  in  a 
distressed  voice. 

"They  do  act  kinder  queer,"  replied  Budd,  who  was 
trying  to  lift  a  sleeping  hen  off  her  nest,  to  which  she 
seemed  glued.  "  I  '11  tell  you  what 's  better  than  that ; 
just  put  your  ear  down  and  listen,  and  if  you  hear  a  '  peep- 
peep,'  it 's  a  chicken." 

Cherry,  the  obedient  slave  of  Budd,  crawled  about  over 
the  flooring  on  her  hands  and  knees,  listening  first  at  one 
nest,  then  at  another,  for  the  expected  "peep-peep." 

"  I  don't  hear  anything,"  said  Cherry,  in  an  aggrieved 
tone,  "  but  the  old  hens  guggling  when  I  poke  under 
them.  Oh  !  but  here  's  a  green  rag  sticking  out,  Budd." 


92  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  And  a  speckled  hen?"  said  Budd,  eagerly. 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  that 's  the  one  I  've  been  looking  for  ;  it 's  dark 
over  here  in  this  corner.  Lemme  see." 

Budd  put  both  hands  under  the  hen  and  lifted  her 
gently.  "  Ak  —  ok — ork — ach,"  gasped  the  hen,  as 
Budd  took  her  firmly  around  the  throat;  but  she  was 
too  sleepy  to  care  much  what  became  of  her,  and  so  hung 
limp  and  silent. 

"  I  '11  hold  the  hen,  Cherry,  and  you  take  up  those  eggs 
one  at  a  time  and  hold  them  to  my  ear." 

"What  for?"  said  Cherry. 

"  Now  don't  be  a  loony,  but  do  as  I  tell  you,"  said  Budd, 
impatiently.  Cherry  did  as  she  was  bidden  ;  Budd  listened 
intently. 

"  By  cracky  !  there  's  one !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Here, 
help  me  set  this  hen  back  again,  and  keep  that  one 
out." 

"What  for?"  queried  Cherry,  forgetting  her  former 
lesson. 

"Oh,  you  ninny! — here,  listen,  will  you?  "Budd  put 
the  egg  to  her  ear. 

"  Why,  that 's  a  chicken  peeping  inside.  I  can  hear 
him,"  said  Cherry,  in  an  awed  voice. 

"  Yes,  and  I  'm  going  to  let  him  out,"  said  Budd, 
triumphantly. 

"But  then  you'll  have  the  prize  chicken,  Budd," 
said  Cherry,  rather  dubiously,  for  she  had  wanted  it 
herself. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  93 

"  Of  course,  you  goosey,  what  do  you  suppose  I  came 
out  here  for?"  demanded  Budd. 

"But,  Budd,  will  it  be  fair?"  said  Cherry,  timidly. 

"  Fair  1 "  muttered  Budd ;  "  it 's  fair  enough  if  it 's  out 
first.  It 's  their  own  fault  if  they  don't  know  enough  to 
get  ahead  of  us." 

"  Did  you  think  it  all  out  yourself,  Budd  ? "  queried 
Cherry,  admiringly,  watching  Budd's  proceeding  with 
wide-open  eyes. 

"  Yup,"  said  Budd,  shortly. 

They  were  not  far  from  Hazel's  hiding-place,  and,  by 
raising  her  head  a  few  inches,  she  could  see  the  whole 
process. 

First  Budd  listened  intently  at  one  end  of  the  egg,  then 
at  the  other.  He  drew  out  a  large  pin  from  his  pajamas 
and  began  very  carefully  to  pick  the  shell. 

"Oh,  gracious,  Budd!  what  are  you  doing?"  cried 
Cherry. 

"  What  you  see,"  said  Budd,  a  little  crossly,  for  his 
conscience  was  not  wholly  at  ease. 

He  picked  and  picked,  and  finally  made  an  opening.  He 
examined  it  carefully. 

"  Oh,  thunder  !  "  he  exclaimed  under  his  breath,  "  I  've 
picked  the  wrong  end." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  persisted  Cherry. 

"  I  wanted  to  open  the  '  peep-peep '  end  first,  so  he  could 
breathe,"  replied  Budd,  intent  upon  his  work.  Cherry 
watched  breathlessly.  At  last  the  other  end  was  opened, 
and  Budd  began  to  detach  the  shell  from  something  which 


94  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

might  have  been  a  worm,  a  fish,  a  pollywog,  or  a  baby  white 
mouse,  for  all  it  looked  like  a  chicken.  It  lay  in  Budd's 
hand. 

"  Oh,  Budd,  you  've  killed  it !  "  cried  Cherry,  beginning 
to  sniff. 

"  Shut  up,  Cherry  Blossom,  or  I  '11  leave  you,"  threat 
ened  Budd.  Just  then  the  moon  was  obscured  by  a  passing 
cloud,  and  the  loft  became  suddenly  dark  and  shadowy. 
Cherry  screamed  under  her  breath. 

"  Oh,  Budd,  don't  leave  me ;  I  can't  see  you  !  " 

There  was  a  soft  rapid  stride  over  the  flooring ;  and 
before  Budd  well  knew  what  had  happened,  he  was  seized 
by  the  binding  of  his  pajamas,  lifted,  and  shaken  with  such 
vigor  that  his  teeth  struck  together  and  he  felt  the  jar  in 
the  top  of  his  head. 

As  the  form  loomed  so  unexpectedly  before  her,  Cherry 
screamed  with  fright. 

"  I  '11  teach  you  to  play  a  business  trick  like  this  on  us, 
you  mean  sneaking  little  rascal ! "  roared  March.  "  Do 
you  think  I  did  n't  see  you  creeping  out  of  the  room  along 
the  side  of  my  bed  on  all  fours  ?  You  did  n't  dare  to 
walk  out  like  a  man,  and  I  might  have  known  you  were 
up  to  no  good !  "  Another  shake  followed  that  for  a 
moment  dazed  Budd.  Then,  as  he  felt  the  flooring  be 
neath  his  feet,  he  turned  in  a  towering  passion  of  guilt 
and  rage  on  March. 

"  You  're  a  darned  sneak  yourself,"  he  howled  rather 
than  cried.  "  Take  that  for  your  trouble  !  "  Raising  his 
doubled  fist,  he  aimed  a  quick,  hard  blow  at  March's 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  95 

stomach.  But,  somehow,  before  it  struck,  one  strong 
hand — not  March's  —  held  his  as  in  a  vice,  and  another, 
stronger,  hoisted  him  by  the  waist-band  of  his  pajamas 
and  held  him,  squirming  and  howling,  suspended  for  a 
moment ;  then  he  felt  himself  tossed  somewhere.  He  fell 
upon  the  hay  under  which  Hazel  had  taken  refuge,  and 
landed  upon  her  with  almost  force  enough  to  knock  the 
breath  from  her  body.  Cherry,  meanwhile,  had  not  ceased 
screaming  under  her  breath,  and,  as  Budd  descended  so 
unexpectedly  upon  Hazel,  a  great  groan  and  a  sharp  wail 
came  forth  from  the  hay,  to  the  mortal  terror  of  all  but 
Chi,  who  grew  white  at  the  thought  of  what  might  have 
happened  to  his  Lady-bird,  and,  unintentionally,  through 
him. 

That  awful  groan  proved  too  much  for  the  children. 
Gathering  themselves  together  in  less  time  than  it  takes 
to  tell  it,  they  fled  as  well  as  they  could  in  the  dark,  — 
down  the  ladder,  out  through  the  barn,  over  the  grass- 
plat,  into  the  house,  and  dove  into  bed,  trembling  in  every 
limb. 

"  What  on  earth  is  the  matter,  children  ? "  said  Mrs. 
Blossom,  appearing  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  "  Did  one 
of  you  fall  out  of  bed  ?  " 

Budd's  head  was  under  the  bedclothes,  his  teeth  chatter 
ing  through  fear ;  likewise  Cherry.  March  assumed  as 
firm  a  tone  as  he  could. 

"  Budd  had  a  sort  of  nightmare,  mother,  but  he  's  all 
right  now."  March  felt  sick  at  the  deception. 

"  Well,  settle   down   now  and   go  to   sleep ;    it 's   just 


96  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

twelve."  And  Mrs.  Blossom  went  back  into  the  bedroom 
where  Mr.  Blossom  was  still  soundly  sleeping. 

Meanwhile,  Chi  was  testing  Hazel  to  see  that  no  harm 
had  been  done. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  all  right,"  said  Hazel,  rather  breathlessly. 
"  But  it  really  knocked  the  breath  out  of  my  body."  She 
laughed.  "  I  never  thought  of  your  catching  up  Budd 
that  way  and  plumping  him  down  on  top  of  me  ! " 

"  Guess  my  wits  had  gone  wool-gatherin',  when  I  never 
thought  of  your  hidin'  there,"  said  Chi,  recovering  from 
his  fright.  "  But  that  boy  made  me  so  pesky  mad,  tryin' 
to  play  such  a  game  on  all  of  us,  that  I  kind  of  lost  my 
temper  'n'  did  n't  see  straight.  Well  —  "  he  heaved  a 
sigh  of  relief,  "  he  's  got  his  come-uppance  !  " 

"  Where  do  you  suppose  that  poor  little  chicken  is  ?  " 

"  We  '11  look  him  up ;   the  moon  's  comin'  out  again." 

There,  close  by  the  nest,  lay  the  queer  something  on  the 
floor.  "  I  '11  tuck  it  in  right  under  the  old  hen's  breast, 
'n'  then,  if  there  's  any  life  in  it,  it  '11  come  to  by  mornin'." 
He  examined  it  closely.  "  I  '11  come  out  'n'  see.  Come, 
we  'd  better  be  gettin'  in  'fore  't  is  dark  again  —  " 

He  put  the  poor  mite  of  a  would-be  chicken  carefully 
under  the  old  lien,  where  it  was  warm  and  downy,  arid  as 
he  did  so,  he  caught  sight  of  the  rag  hanging  over  the 
edge  of  the  nest.  He  looked  at  it  closely ;  then  slapping 
his  thigh,  he  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 

"  What  is  it,  Chi  ?  "  said  Hazel,  laughing,  too,  at  Chi's 
mirth. 

"  Look  here,  Lady-bird  !  you  've  got  the  Prize  Chicken, 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  97 

after  all.  That  boy  could  n't  tell  green  from  blue  in  the 
moonlight,  'n'  he  's  hatched  out  one  of  yours.  By  George 
Washin'ton  !  that 's  a  good  one,  —  serves  him  right,"  he 
said,  wiping  the  tears  of  mirth  from  his  eyes. 

The  chicken  lived,  but  never  seemed  to  belong  to  any 
one  in  particular ;  and  as  Chi  said  solemnly  the  next 
morning,  "  The  less  said  on  this  Mountain  about  prize 
chickens,  the  better  it'll  be  for  us  all." 


X 

AN    UNEXPECTED   MEETING 

IT  was  a  busy  summer  in  and  about  the  farmhouse  on 
Mount  Hunger.  What  with  tending  the  chickens  —  there 
were  four  hundred  and  two  in  all  —  and  strawberry-pick 
ing  and  preserving,  and  in  due  season  a  repetition  of  the 
process  with  raspberries  and  blackberries,  the  days  seemed 
hardly  long  enough  to  accomplish  all  the  young  people 
had  planned. 

Mr.  Clyde  came  up  for  two  days  in  June,  and  upon  his 
return  told  Doctor  Heath  that  he,  too,  felt  as  if  he  needed 
that  kind  of  a  cure. 

Hazel  was  the  picture  of  health  and  fast  becoming  what 
Chi  had  predicted,  "  an  A  Number  1  "  beauty.  Her  dark 
eyes  sparkled  with  the  joy  of  life ;  on  her  rounded  cheeks 
there  was  the  red  of  the  rose ;  the  skull-cap  had  been  dis 
carded,  and  a  fine  crop  of  soft,  silky  rings  of  dark  brown 
hair  had  taken  its  place. 

"Never,  no,  never,  have  I  had  such  good  times,"  she 
wrote  to  her  Cousin  Jack  at  Newport.  "  We  eat  on  the 
porch,  and  make  believe  camp  out  in  the  woods,  and  we 
ride  on  Bess  and  Bob  all  over  the  Mountain.  We've 
about  finished  the  preserves  and  jams,  and  Rose  has  only 
burnt  herself  twice.  The  chickens,  Chi  says,  are  going  to 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  99 

be  prime  ones  ;  it  's  awfully  funny  to  see  them  come  flying 
and  hopping  and  running  towards  us  the  minute  they  see 
us  —  March  says  it 's  the  '  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade.' 

"  I  wish  you  could  be  up  here  and  have  some  of  the  fun, 
—  but  I  'm  afraid  you  're  too  old.  I  enclose  the  song 
Rose  sings  which  you  asked  me  for.  I  don't  understand 
it,  but  it 's  perfectly  beautiful  when  she  sings  it." 

Hazel  had  asked  Rose  for  the  words  of  the  song,  telling 
her  that  her  Cousin  Jack  at  Harvard  would  like  to  have 
them.  Rose  looked  surprised  for  a  moment. 

"  What  can  he  want  of  them  ? "  she  asked  in  a  rather 
dignified  manner;  and  Hazel,  thinking  she  was  giving 
the  explanation  the  most  reasonable  as  well  as  agreeable, 
replied:  — 

"  I  don't  know  for  sure,  but  I  think  —  you  won't  tell, 
will  you,  Rose?" 

"  Of  course  I  won't.  I  don't  even  know  your  cousin,  to 
begin  with." 

"  I  think  he  is  going  to  be  engaged,  or  is,  to  Miss  Seatoii 
of  New  York.  All  his  friends  think  she  is  awfully  pretty, 
and  papa  says  she  is  fascinating.  I  think  Jack  wanted 
them  to  give  to  her." 

"  Oh,"  said  Rose,  in  a  cool  voice  with  a  circumflex 
inflection,  then  added  in  a  decidedly  toploftical  tone, 
"  I  've  no  objection  to  his  making  use  of  them.  I  '11  copy 
them  for  you." 

"  Thank  you,  Rose,"  said  Hazel,  rather  puzzled  and  a 
little  hurt  at  Rose's  new  manner. 

This  conversation  took  place  the  first  week  in  August, 


100  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

and  the  verses  were  duly  forwarded  to  Jack,  who  read  them 
over  twice,  and  then,  thrusting  them  into  his  breast-pocket, 
went  over  to  the  Casino,  whistling  softly  to  himself  on  the 
way.  There,  meeting  his  chum  and  some  other  friends,  he 
proposed  a  riding-trip  through  the  Green  Mountain  region 
for  the  latter  part  of  August. 

"  The  Colonel  and  his  wife  will  go  with  us,  I  'm  sure, 
and  any  of  the  girls  who  can  ride  well  will  jump  at  the 
chance,"  said  his  chum.  "  It 's  a  novelty  after  so  much 
coaching." 

"  I  '11  go  over  and  see  Miss  Seaton  about  it,"  said  Jack, 
and  walked  off  singing  to  himself,  — 

"  '  —  the  stars  above 
Shine  ever  on  Love  ' —  " 

His  friend  turned  to  the  others.  "  That 's  a  go ;  I  've 
never  seen  Sherrill  so  hard  hit  before."  Then  he  fell  to 
discussing  the  new  plan  with  the  rest. 

Jack  was  wily  enough,  as  he  laid  the  plan  before  Maude 
Seaton,  to  attempt  to  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone.  He 
had  had  a  desire,  ever  since  the  first  letter  of  Hazel's,  to 
see  his  little  cousin  in  her  new  surroundings,  and  this 
desire  was  immeasurably  strengthened  by  his  curiosity  to 
see  a  girl  who  sang  Barry  Cornwall's  love-lyrics  on  Mount 
Hunger.  Consequently,  in  planning  the  high-roads  to  be 
followed  through  the  Green  Mountains,  he  had  not  omitted 
to  include  Barton's  River,  as  it  boasted  a  good  inn. 

"  Here  's  Woodstock,  —  just  here,"  he  explained  to  pretty 
Maude  Seaton,  as  they  sat  on  the  broad  morning-porch  of 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  101 

the  palatial  Newport  cottage,  with  a  map  of  Vermont  on 
the  table  between  them.  "We  can  stop  there  a  day  or 
two,  and  make  our  next  stop  at  Barton's  River ;  I  've 
heard  it 's  a  beautiful  place,  with  glorious  mountain  rides 
within  easy  distance.  Suppose  we  arrange  to  stop  three 
or  four  days  there  and  take  it  all  in  ?  I  've  been  told 
it 's  the  finest  river-valley  in  New  England." 

"  Oh,  do  let 's !  The  whole  thing  is  going  to  be  delight 
ful.  I  'm  so  tired  of  coaching ;  I  believe  nobody  enjoys  it 
now,  unless  it 's  the  one  who  holds  the  reins,  and  then  all 
the  others  are  bored.  But  with  fine  horses  this  will  be  no 
end  of  fun.  We  can  send  on  our  trunks  ahead,  can't  we  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  that 's  easily  arranged.  By  the  way,  what 
horse  will  you  take?  Remember,"  he  said,  looking  her 
squarely  in  the  eyes  with  a  flattering  concern,  "  it 's  a 
mountain  country,  and  we  can't  afford  to  have  anything 
happen  to  you." 

"  No  danger  for  me,"  laughed  Maude,  meeting  his  look 
as  squarely.  "  And  I  can't  worry  about  you  after  seeing 
the  polo  game  you  played  yesterday,"  she  added  with 
frank  admiration. 

"It  was  a  good  one,  wasn't  it?"  said  Jack,  his  eyes 
kindling  at  the  remembrance.  "  It  was  my  mascot  did  the 
business  —  see  ?  "  He  put  his  hand  in  his  breast-pocket, 
expecting  to  draw  forth  a  ribbon  bow  of  Maude's  that  she 
had  given  him  for  "  colors  ;  "  but,  to  his  amazement,  and 
to  Miss  Seaton's  private  chagrin,  he  drew  forth  only  the 
slip  of  paper  with  Barry  Cornwall's  love-song  in  Rose 
Blossom's  handwriting. 


102  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Where  the  dickens  was  that  bow  ?  Jack  felt  the  absurd 
ity  of  hunting  in  all  his  pockets  for  something  he  had 
intended  should  express  one  phase,  at  least,  of  his  senti 
ments.  He  felt  the  blood  mounting  to  the  roots  of  his 
hair,  and,  laughing,  put  a  bold  face  on  it. 

He  held  out  the  slip  of  paper.  "  It  looks  innocent, 
doesn't  it?"  he  said  mischievously,  and  enjoyed  to  the 
full  Maude's  look  of  discomfiture,  which,  only  for  a  second, 
she  could  not  help  showing.  "  She  '11  know  now  how  a 
fellow  feels  when  he  has  sent  her  flowers  and  sees  her 
wearing  another  man's  offering,"  he  thought.  He  turned 
to  the  map  again. 

"  Well,  what  horse  will  you  ride  ?  " 

"  I  '11  take  Old  Jo ;  he  's  safe,  and  splendid  for  fences. 
Of  course  you  '11  take  Little  Shaver  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  and  I  don't  part  company  very  often.  So  it 's 
settled,  is  it?"  he  asked,  feeling  cooler  than  he  did. 

"  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  it  is  ;  and  I  know  the  Colonel 
and  Mrs.  Fenlick  will  go;  it's  just  the  thing  they  like." 

"  Well,  I  '11  leave  you  to  speak  to  the  other  girls,  and 
I  '11  go  over  and  see  Mrs.  Fenlick.  Good-bye."  He  held 
out  his  hand,  but  Miss  Seaton  chose  to  be  looking  down 
the  avenue  at  that  moment. 

"  Oh,  there  are  the  Graysons  beckoning  to  me ! "  she 
exclaimed  eagerly.  "  Excuse  me,  and  good-bye  —  I  must 
run  down  to  see  them."  As  she  walked  swiftly  and  grace 
fully  over  the  lawn,  she  knew  Jack  Sherrill  was  watching 
her.  "  Yes,  it 's  settled,"  she  thought,  as  she  hurried  on  ; 
"  and  something  else  is  settled,  too,  Mr.  Sherrill !  You  've 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  103 

been  hanging  fire  long  enough  —  and  the  idea  of  his 
forgetting  that  bow  I  " 

The  Graysons  thought  they  had  never  seen  Maude 
Seaton  quite  so  pretty  as  she  was  that  morning,  when  she 
stood  chatting  and  laughing  with  all  in  general,  and  fasci 
nating  each  in  particular.  The  result  was,  the  Graysons 
joined  the  riding-party  in  a  body,  and  Sam  Grayson  vowed 
he  would  cut  Jack  Sherrill  out  if  he  had  to  fight  for  it. 

It  was  a  glorious  first  of  September  when  the  riding- 
party,  ten  in  number,  cantered  up  to  the  inn  at  Barton's 
River,  and  it  was  a  merry  group  in  fresh  toilets  that  gath 
ered  after  dinner  and  a  rest  of  an  hour  or  two  in  their  rooms, 
on  the  long,  narrow,  vine-covered  veranda  of  the  inn.  It 
had  been  a  warm  day,  and  the  afternoon  shadows  were 
gratefully  cooling. 

"  Will  you  look  at  that  load  coming  down  the  street  ?  " 
said  Mi's.  Fenlick.  "  I  never  saw  anything  so  funny  !  " 

The  whole  party  burst  out  laughing,  as  the  vehicle,  an 
old  apple-green  cart,  apparently  filled  with  bobbing  calico 
sunbonnets  and  straw  hats,  shackled  and  rattled  up  to  the 
side  door  of  the  inn. 

"  I  shall  call  them  the  Antediluvians,"  laughed  Maude 
Seaton.  "  Do  you  know  where  they  come  from  ? "  she 
said,  speaking  in  at  the  open  office-window  to  the  boy. 

"  I  guess  they  come  to  sell  berries  from  a  place  the 
folks  round  here  call  '  The  Lost  Nation,' "  he  replied, 
grinning. 

'"The  Lost  Nation!'  Do  you  hear  that?"  said  Sam 
Grayson.  "  Let 's  have  a  nearer  view  of  the  natives."  They 


104  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

all  went  to  the  end  of  the  veranda  nearest  the  cart.  Sam 
Grayson  and  Jack  went  out  to  investigate. 

Two  boys  in  faded  blue  overalls  and  almost  brimless 
straw  hats  jumped  down  before  the  wagon  stopped,  and 
began  lifting  out  six-quart  pails  of  shining  blackberries 
from  beneath  an  old  buffalo  robe.  Jack,  with  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  sauntered  up  to  the  tail  of  the  cart. 

"  Buy  them  all,  do  —  do  !  "  cried  Miss  Seaton,  clapping 
her  hands.  "  We  need  them  to-morrow  for  our  picnic ; 
and  pay  a  good  price,"  she  added,  "for  the  sake  of  the 
looks.  I  wouldn't  have  missed  it  for  anything?" 

"  How  do  you  sell  them  ? "  said  Jack  to  the  tall  boy 
who  stood  with  his  back  to  him,  busied  with  the  berries. 

The  boy  turned  at  the  sound  of  the  pleasant  voice,  and 
lifted  his  brimless  hat  by  the  crown  with  an  air  a  Harvard 
freshman  might  have  envied.  Jack,  seeing  it,  was  sorry  he 
was  bareheaded,  for  he  hated  to  be  outdone  in  such  courtesy. 

"  Ten  cents  a  quart,  sir." 

"  What  a  handsome  fellow ! "  whispered  Mrs.  Fenlick. 
"  You  rarely  see  such  a  face ;  and  where  did  he  get  such 
manners  ?  " 

"  How  many  quarts  have  —  halloo,  Little  Sunbonnet ! 
Look  out !  "  said  Jack,  laughing,  as  he  caught  the  owner 
of  the  yellow  sunbonnet,  who,  perched  on  the  side  of  the 
wagon,  suddenly  lost  her  balance  because  of  Bess's  uneasy 
movements  in  fly-time. 

"  Well,  you  are  an  armful,"  he  laughed  as  he  set  her 
down  and  tried  in  vain  to  peer  up  under  the  drooping 
bonnet  and  discover  a  face. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  105 

"  Whoa  —  ah,  Bess  !  "  shouted  the  driver,  as  Bess  reared 
and  snorted  and  shuddered  and  finally  rid  herself  of  the 
tormenting  horse-fly.  "  All  right,  Cherry  Bounce  ? "  he 
said,  turning  at  last  when  the  horse  was  quieted. 

But  Cherry  was  dumb  with  embarrassment,  and  Jack 
answered  for  her. 

"Little  Sunbonnet's  all  safe,  but  what  —  He  got  no 
further  with  that  sentence.  To  the  amazement  of  the 
group  on  the  veranda  and  Jack's  overwhelming  astonish 
ment,  a  wild,  gleeful  "  Oh-ee  !  "  issued  from  the  depths 
of  another  sunbonnet  in  the  cart,  and  the  owner  thereof 
precipitated  herself  recklessly  over  the  side,  and  cast  her 
self  upon  Jack's  neck,  hugging  and  "oh-eeing"  with  all 
her  might. 

"  Why,  Hazel !  Hazel ! "  Except  for  that,  Jack  was 
dumb  like  Cherry,  but  not  with  embarrassment.  Was 
this  Hazel  ?  Her  sunbonnet  had  fallen  off,  and  the  dark 
blue  gingham  dress  set  off  the  wonderful  richness  of  color 
ing  that  helped  to  make  Hazel  what  she  had  become,  "  a 
perfect  beauty." 

"  Oh,  Jack,  you  old  darling,  why  did  n't  you  let  us  know 
you  were  coming  ?  Chi,  Chi !  "  Hazel  was  fairly  wild 
with  joy  at  seeing  a  dearly  loved  home-face.  "  This  is  my 
Cousin  Jack  we  've  talked  about.  Jack,  this  is  my  friend, 
Chi." 

Chi  put  out  his  horny  brown  hand,  and  Jack  grasped  it. 

"  Guess  she  's  givin'  you  away  pretty  smart,  ain't  she  ?" 
said  Chi,  with  a  twist  of  his  mouth  and  a  motion  of  his 
thumb  backwards  to  the  veranda. 


106  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Well,  rather,"  said  Jack,  laughing,  for  he  felt  that 
Chi's  keen  eyes  had  taken  in  the  whole  situation  at  a 
glance.  "  I  meant  to  surprise  her,  but  she  has  succeeded 
in  surprising  me."  He  stood  with  his  arm  about  Hazel. 
"  And  these  are  your  friends,  Hazel?"  he  inquired ;  he  felt 
he  must  make  the  best  of  it  now. 

"  Oh,  Jack,  I  'm  ashamed  of  myself ;  I  'm  so  glad  to  see 
you  I  've  forgotten  my  manners.  Rose,"  she  spoke  up  to 
the  other  sunbonnet  that  had  kept  its  position  straight 
towards  the  horse  and  never  moved  during  this  surprise 
party.  Then  Rose  turned.  "  Rose,  this  is  Cousin  Jack." 

The  sunbonnet  bowed  stiffly,  and  Jack  heard  a  low  laugh 
behind  him.  It  was  Maude  Seaton's.  Rose  heard  it,  too ; 
so  did  Chi  and  March.  It  affected  each  in  the  same  way. 
As  Chi  said  afterwards,  he  "  b'iled "  when  he  heard  it. 
Then  Rose  spoke :  — 

"  I  'm  very  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Sherrill,  we  've  heard 
so  much  of  you."  Her  voice  rang  sweet  and  clear  ;  every 
word  was  heard  on  the  veranda.  "  And  these  berries 
are  n't  to  be  preserved ;  but  evidently  you  are  going  to 
buy  them  just  the  same,  —  as  well  as  your  friends,"  she 
added,  looking  towards  the  veranda. 

Jack  bit  his  lip.  "  I  should  like  to  introduce  all  my 
friends  to  you,"  he  said,  without  much  enthusiasm,  how 
ever.  "  I  know  this  is  March  ;  "  he  turned  pleasantly  to 
him,  but  dared  not  offer  his  hand,  for  the  look  on  the 
boy's  face  warned  him  that  March  had  resented  the  laugh. 
"  Will  you  come  ?  "  He  held  up  his  hand  to  Rose  to  help 
her  down. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  107 

"  Thank  you."  Rose  sprang  down,  ignoring  the  prof 
fered  help. 

She  knew  just  how  she  looked,  and  her  face  burned  at 
the  thought.  Her  old  green  and  white  calico  dress  was 
shrunken  and  warped  with  many  washings ;  her  shoes 
were  heavy  and  patched ;  fortunately  her  sunbonnet  with 
its  green  calico  cape  was  of  a  depth  to  hide  her  burning 
face.  But  that  laugh  had  been  like  a  challenge  to  her 
pride. 

"  Drive  up  to  the  front  veranda,  Chi,"  she  commanded 
rather  brusquely  ;  and  Chi,  muttering  to  himself,  "  She  's 
game,  though ;  I  would  n't  thought  it  of  Rose-pose ;  but 
I  glory  in  her  spunk !  "  drew  up  to  the  front  door  in  a 
truly  rattling  style. 

Then  Rose  and  Hazel  were  introduced  to  them  all ;  but 
in  vain  did  Maude  Seaton  try  to  get  a  look  into  her  face. 
It  was  only  a  ceremony,  and  Rose  felt  it  as  such ;  never 
theless  she  said  very  pleasantly,  "Hazel,  wouldn't  you 
like  to  invite  your  friends  up  to  tea  on  the  porch  to-mor 
row?  that  is,  if  you  are  to  be  here  ?  "  she  added,  address 
ing  Mrs.  Fenlick. 

"  Oh,  Rose,  that  would  be  lovely.  Then  they  can  see 
the  chickens !  "  said  Hazel.  There  was  a  general  laugh. 

"  I  fear  it  will  be  too  much  trouble,  Miss  Blossom,"  said 
Mrs.  Fenlick,  courteously,  for  she  felt  like  apologizing  for 
that  laugh  of  Maude  Seaton's ;  "  there  are  so  many  of  us." 

"  Oh,  no,  my  mother  will  be  glad  to  meet  you,"  Rose 
replied  with  serene  voice  ;  "  won't  she,  Chi  ?  " 

"  Sure,"  said  Chi,  addressing  the  general  assembly  ;  "  the 


108  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

more  the  merrier ;  'n'  if  you  coine  along  about  four,  you  '11 
get  a  view  you  don't  get  round  here,  'n'  a  wholesale  piazzy 
to  eat  it  on.  How  many  do  you  count  up  ?  "  Jack  winced 
at  the  burst  of  merriment  that  followed  the  question. 

"We'll  line  up,  and  you  can  count,"  said  Sam  Grayson, 
the  fun  getting  the  better  of  him.  "  Here,  Miss  Seaton, 
stand  at  the  head." 

"  Miss  Blossom,  there  are  ten  of  us  ;  are  you  going  to 
retract  your  invitation  ? "  said  Mrs.  Fenlick,  shaking  her 
head  at  Sam. 

"  Not  if  you  wish  to  come,"  said  Rose,  pleasantly.  "  We 
will  have  tea  at  five.  Come,  Hazel,  we  must  be  going  ; 
there  are  the  berries  to  sell  —  or  shall  we  leave  you  here 
with  your  cousin  till  we  come  back?" 

"No,  I  won't  leave  you  even  for  Jack,"  said  Hazel, 
earnestly ;  "  besides,  I  've  never  had  the  fun  of  selling 
berries." 

"  I  'm  thinkin'  you  've  lost  your  fun,  anyway,"  said  Chi, 
"  for  Budd  says  the  tavern-keeper  has  taken  all ;  guess 
he 's  goin'  into  the  jam  business,  too." 

"  I  '11  pick  some  more,  then,  to-morrow,  and  you  ?11  have 
to  buy  some  of  them,  Jack,"  said  Hazel,  "  for  I  'm  bound 
to  sell  some  berries  this  summer." 

"  We  '11  take  all  you  can  pick,  Hazel,"  said  Maude 
Seaton,  sweetly.  Then,  as  the  cart  rattled  away  with 
the  three  sunbonnete  held  rigid  and  erect,  she  turned  to 
Mrs.  Fenlick  and  the  other  girls :  "  What  an  idea  that 
was  of  Doctor  Heath's  to  put  Hazel  away  up  here  in  such 
a  family  —  a  girl  in  her  position  !  " 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  109 

"  She  seems  to  have  thriven  wonderfully  on  it,"  re 
marked  Mrs.  Fenlick  ;  "  she  will  be  the  prettiest  of  her  set 
when  they  come  out.  I  am  delighted  to  have  a  chance  to 
see  Doctor  Heath's  mountain  sanatorium." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  sure  it  will  be  amusing,"  replied  Maude,  dryly. 
Then  she  shook  out  her  light  draperies,  pulled  down  her 
belt,  and  went  down  the  road  a  bit  to  meet  Jack  and  Sam 
Grayson,  who  had  accompanied  the  cart  for  a  few  rods 
along  the  village  street. 

When  they  had  turned  back  to  the  inn,  the  storm  in 
the  apple-green  cart  burst  forth. 

"  Did  you  hear  that  girl  laugh?  "  demanded  March,  with 
suppressed  wrath  in  his  voice. 

"  Just  as  plain  as  I  hear  that  crow  caw,"  said  Chi. 

"  I  can't  bear  her,"  said  Hazel ;  "  telling  me  she  would 
buy  my  berries  when  I  only  meant  Jack." 

"  Kinder  sweet  on  him,  ain't  she  ?  "  asked  Chi,  carelessly. 

"  I  should  think  so ! "  was  Hazel's  indignant  answer. 
"  I  heard  Aunt  Carrie  tell  papa  she  was  always  sending 
him  invitations  to  everything.  But  is  n't  Cousin  Jack 
splendid,  Rose?  " 

Rose's  sunbonnet  was  still  very  rigid,  and  Chi  knew 
that  sign  ;  so  he  spoke  up  promptly,  knowing  that  she  did 
not  care  to  answer  just  then :  - 

"  He  's  about  as  handsome  as  they  make  'em,  Lady-bird  ; 
if  he  wears  well,  I  sha'n't  have  nothin'  against  him." 

Hazel  felt  rather  depressed  without  knowing  exactly 
why.  March  returned  to  the  charge. 

" Did  you  hear  that  laugh,  Rose?  " 


110  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  said  Rose,  shortly.  March  looked  at  her 
in  surprise,  but  Chi  managed  to  give  him  a  nudge,  which 
March  understood,  and  the  subject  was  dropped  on  the 
homeward  way. 

That  the  berry-sellers  were  under  a  cloud  was  evident 
to  Mrs.  Blossom  as  soon  as  they  drove  up  to  the  woodshed. 

"  Did  you  have  good  luck,  children  ? "  she  called  to 
them  cheerily. 

"  We  've  sold  all  our  berries,"  said  Budd. 

"  But  March  and  Rose  are  cross,  Martie,"  added  Cherry. 

"  Tired  'n'  hungry,  too,  Mis'  Blossom,"  Chi  hastened  to 
say,  trying  to  shield  Hazel  and  the  other  two.  "  I  wish 
you  'd  just  step  out  to  the  barn  with  a  spoonful  of  your 
good  lard.  Bess  has  rubbed  her  shin  a  little  mite,  'n'  I 
want  to  grease  it  good  to  save  the  hair."  Mrs.  Blossom, 
reading  his  face,  took  the  hint. 

He  made  his  confession  in  the  barn. 

"  I  don't  know  what  we  've  done,  Mis'  Blossom ;  but 
Rose  has  invited  'em  all  up  here  to-morrow  to  supper,  — 
they  're  regular  high-flyers,  girls  'n'  fellers,  'n'  the  Colonel 
and  his  wife.  There  's  ten  of  'em ;  'n'  it 's  a-goin'  to  make 
you  an  awful  sight  of  work,  but,  by  George  Washin'ton ! 
that  pesky  girl  —  Miss  Seaver,  or  somethin'  like  it  — 
riled  me  so,  that  I  ain't  got  over  it  yet,  'n'  I  'd  backed  up 
Rose  if  she  'd  offered  to  take  the  whole  of  'em  to  board 
for  a  week.  I  just  b'iled  when  I  heard  her  laugh,  'n'  she 
can't  hold  a  candle  to  our  Rose ;  'n'  she 's  that  sassy  - 
although  you  can't  put  your  finger  on  anything  special  — 
that  you  can't  sass  back  ;  the  worst  kind  every  time ;  'n' 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  111 

she  's  set  her  cap  for  the  straightest  sort  of  chap  —  that 's 
Hazel's  cousin  —  there  is  goin',  'n',  by  George  Washin'ton  ! 
I  'm  afraid  he  's  fool  enough  to  catch  at  that  bait. 

"  There !  "  said  Chi,  stopping  to  draw  breath,  "  I  've  had 
my  blow-out  'n'  I  feel  better.  Now,  what  are  we  goin'  to 
do  about  it  ?  " 

"  We  '11  manage  it,  Chi,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom,  smiling  in 
spite  of  herself  at  Chi's  wrath.  "  After  all,  the  children 
have  been  carefully  guarded  in  our  home  up  here,  and, 
sometimes,  I  think  too  much,  —  it  won't  hurt  them  to  take 
a  prick  now  and  then.  Besides,  Chi,"  she  added,  laughing 
outright  as  she  turned  to  go  into  the  house,  "  the  children 
did  look  perfectly  ridiculous  in  those  old  berry-picking 
rigs.  I  laughed  myself  when  I  saw  you  drive  off  with 
them." 

But  she  left  Chi  grumbling. 

That  night,  after  the  children  were  in  bed,  and  Mrs. 
Blossom  was  sure  they  were  all  asleep  except  Rose,  she 
went  upstairs  a  second  time  and  spoke  softly  at  the  door : 

"Rose." 

"  Yes,  Martie  ;  oh,  you  're  coming !  I  'm  so  glad."  And 
as  Mrs.  Blossom  knelt  by  the  bed,  whispering,  "  Now  tell 
me  all  about  it,"  Rose  threw  one  arm  over  her  mother's 
shoulder  and  whispered  her  confession. 

"  They  were  n't  rude  to  you,  dear,  were  they  ?  " 

"  No,  Martie,"  whispered  Rose,  "  it  was  n't  that,  but  I 
just  hated  them  far  a  minute,  —  Hazel's  cousin  and  all." 

"  That  is  n't  like  you,  Rose  dear,  to  hate  anyone  without 
reason." 


112  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Oh,  Martie,  I  'm  ashamed  to  tell  you  —  "  the  arm  came 
close  about  her  mother's  neck,  "  I  'm  too  old  to  have  such 
feelings,  but  I  could  n't  bear  them  because  I  looked  as  I 
did.  I  was  ashamed  of  my  looks  and  the  children's ;  and 
I  was  ashamed  even  of  Chi  —  dear,  old  Chi !  —  '  there 
was  a  smothered  sob  and  an  effort  to  go  on.  "  And  they 
were  all  dressed  so  beautifully,  and  Hazel's  cousin  had  on 
a  lovely  white  flannel  suit,  and  I  was  just  a  little  rude  to 
him ;  but  it  was  nothing  but  my  dreadful  pride  1  I  did  n't 
know  I  had  it  till  to-day,  —  oh,  dear  1 "  The  head  went 
under  the  counterpane  to  smother  the  sound  of  the  sobs. 

"  But,  my  dear  little  girl  —  "  (When  Rose  cried,  which 
was  seldom,  Mrs.  Blossom  called  her  daughter  who  was  as 
tall  as  herself,  "little  girl,"  and  nothing  comforted  Rose 
more  than  that.)  So  now,  hearing  the  loving  words,  the 
head  emerged  from  the  bedclothes,  and  a  tear-wet  face  was 
meekly  held  over  the  side  of  the  bed  for  a  kiss. 

"  But,  my  dear  little  girl,"  Mrs.  Blossom  went  on  after 
the  interruption,  "  surely  you  were  courteous  and  thought 
ful  of  Hazel's  happiness,  at  least,  to  ask  them  all  up  here 
to  tea.  You  have  n't  that  to  regret." 

There  was  a  fresh  burst,  smothered  quickly  under  the 
sheet.  "  Oh,  Martie,  that 's  the  worst  part  of  it !  I  did  n't 
ask  them  for  Hazel's  sake,  but  just  for  myself,  because  I 
knew  —  I  knew  —  "  Rose  smothered  the  rising  sob ;  "  that 
if  they  came,  I  could  have  on  my  one  pretty  dress,  and 
they  'd  see  that  I  —  that  I  —  "  Rose  was  unable  to  finish. 

"  Could  look  as  well  as  they  did?"  said  Mrs.  Blossom, 
completing  the  sentence. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  113 

"  Yes,"  sighed  Rose,  "  and  I  feel  like  a  perfect  hypocrite 
towards  every  one  of  them  ;  —  and,  oh,  Martie  !  the  truth 
is,  I  was  ashamed  of  being  poor  and  selling  berries  — " 
again  the  head  went  under  the  coverlet,  and  Mrs.  Blossom 
caught  only  broken  phrases :  — 

"  I  am  so  proud  of  —  of  you  and  Popsey  —  poor  Chi 
made  it  worse  —  they  laughed  —  March  was  mad,  too,  — 
and  Miss  Seaton  's  so  pretty  —  clothes  —  Hazel's  cousin 
tried  to  be  polite  —  Hazel  —  just  her  dear  own  self  —  but 
she  's  rich  —  and  Cherry  f-fell  into  his  arms  —  and  I  know 
—  and  I  know  —  I  know  he  wanted  to  be  out  of  the 
whole  thing  —  oh  dear!" 

Mrs.  Blossom  patted  the  bunch  under  the  clothes  whence 
came  the  smothered,  broken  sentences,  and  smiled  while  a 
tear  rolled  down  her  cheek.  After  all,  this  was  real  grief, 
and  she  wished  she  might  have  shielded  her  Rose  from 
just  this  kind  of  contact  with  the  world.  But  she  was 
wise  enough  not  to  say  so. 

"  Well,  Rose  dear,  let 's  look  on  the  other  side  now  the 
invitation  has  been  given.  I,  for  my  part,  shall  be  glad 
to  see  what  they  are  like.  I  know  you  looked  queer  in 
those  old  clothes,  but,  after  all,  would  n't  it  have  been  just 
as  queer  to  have  been  all  dressed  up  selling  berries?" 

"  Yes,  I  think  it  would,  Martie,"  said  Rose,  emerging 
from  her  retreat.  "  I  'm  not  such  a  goose  as  not  to  realize 
we  must  have  looked  perfectly  comical." 

"  Well,  now  comfort  yourself  with  the  thought,  that 
to-morrow  you  need  only  look  just  as  nice  as  you  can  in 
honor  of  our  guests.  I  'm  sure  I  shall,"  said  Mrs.  Blos- 

8 


114  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

som,  laughing  softly.  "  I  'm  not  going  to  be  outdone  by 
all  those  '  high-flyers,'  as  dear,  old  Chi  calls  them.  We  '11 
put  on  our  prettiest  —  and  there  is  n't  much  choice,  you 
know,  for  we  have  just  one  apiece  —  and  we  '11  set  the 
table  with  grandmother's  old  china  out  on  the  porch,  and 
we  '11  give  them  of  our  best,  and  queens,  Rose-pose,  can 
do  no  more.  That 's  our  duty  ;  we  '11  let  the  others  look 
out  for  theirs.  Now,  what  will  be  nice  for  tea  ?  " 

"  Not  preserves,  Martie,  for  Chi  said  -  Her  mother 
interrupted  her,  — 

"  Never  mind  what  Chi  said  now,  dear,  but  plan  for  the 
tea.  We  shall  have  to  work  as  hard  as  we  can  jump 
to-morrow  forenoon  to  get  ready.  I  'm  sorry  father  can't 
be  at  home." 

"  Could  n't  we  have  blackberries  and  those  late  garden 
raspberries  Chi  has  been  saving  ?  "  said  Rose. 

"  Yes,  those  will  look  pretty  and  taste  good ;  and  then 
hot  rolls,  and  fresh  sponge  and  plum  cake,  and  tea,  and 
cold  chicken  moulded  in  its  jelly,  the  way  we  tried  it  last 
mouth  —  " 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  lovely,  Martie,"  whispered  Rose, 
eagerly. 

"  And  if  Chi  and  March  have  the  time,"  went  on  Mrs. 
Blossom,  entering  heart  and  soul  into  the  hospitable  plan, 
"  I  '11  ask  them  to  go  trout-fishing  and  bring  us  home  two 
strings  of  the  speckled  beauties,  and  if  those  served  hot 
don't  make  them  respect  old  clothes  —  then  nothing  on 
earth  will,"  concluded  Mrs.  Blossom,  with  mock  solemnity. 

"  Oh,  Martie   Blossom,  you  're  an  angel !  "  cried   Rose, 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  115 

softly,  rising  in  bed  and  throwing  both  arms  about  her 
mother's  neck  —  "  there  I  "  —  a  squeeze,   "  and  there  — 
another  squeeze  and  a  kiss,  "  and  now  you  won't  have  to 
complain  of  me  to-morrow." 

"  That 's  mother's  own  daughter  Rose,"  said  Mrs.  Blos 
som,  smoothing  the  sheet  under  the  round  chin.  "  Now, 
good-night  —  sleep  well,  for  I  depend  upon  you  to  make 
those  rolls  to-morrow  forenoon." 


XI 

JACK 

JACK  SHERRILL  had  always  had  a  particularly  warm 
interest  in  his  Cousin  Hazel.  He,  too,  was  motherless. 
The  fifteen-year-old  lad  had  gone  into  one  of  the  great 
preparatory  schools  with  the  terrible  mother-want  in  his 
heart  and  life.  Like  Hazel,  he,  too,  was  an  only  child, 
and  consequently  without  the  guidance  and  help  of  an 
elder  brother  or  sister.  His  father  was  all  that  a  man, 
absorbed  in  large  business  interests,  could  be  to  the  son 
whom  he  saw  in  vacation  time  only. 

"  You  are  born  a  gentleman,  Jack,"  he  had  said  to  him 
when  he  was  about  to  enter  Harvard ;  "  remember  to 
conduct  yourself  as  such.  You  '11  not  find  it  an  easy 
matter  at  times  —  I  did  n't  —  but  you  will  find  it  pays  ; 
and  —  and  remember  your  mother."  Then  Mr.  Sherrill 
had  wrung  his  boy's  hand,  and  hurried  away. 

It  was  the  only  time  in  the  three  years  since  she  had 
been  lost  to  him,  that  his  father  had  borne  to  mention  the 
lad's  mother  to  him.  To  Jack  it  was  like  a  last  will  and 
testament,  and  he  wrote  it  not  only  in  his  memory,  but  on 
his  heart. 

He  had  tried,  yes,  honestly,  amid  the  manifold  tempta 
tions  of  his  life  and  his  "  set,"  to  live  up  to  a  certain  ideal 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  117 

of  his  own,  but  it  had  been  slow  work  ;  and  the  last  three 
months  of  his  sophomore  year  had  been  far  from  satis 
factory  to  himself. 

He  was  thinking  this  over  as  he  rode  slowly  up  the 
steep  road  to  Mount  Hunger.  He  had  come  up  that  morn 
ing  to  call  on  Mrs.  Blossom,  for  he  knew  that  the  social 
law  of  hospitality  demanded  that  he  should  pay  his  re 
spects  to  Rose  Blossom's  mother  and  Hazel's  guardian 
before  his  friends  should  break  bread  in  the  house. 

That  tall  girl  in  the  sunbonnet  was  a  disappointment  — 
but  then,  he  had  been  a  fool  to  expect  anything  else  just 
because  she  happened  to  sing  one  of  Barry  Cornwall's 
love-songs.  He  rode  out  of  the  leafy  woods'-road,  and 
came  unexpectedly  upon  the  farmhouse.  Chi  saw  him 
from  the  barn,  and  came  out  to  meet  him. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Blossom  at  home  ? "  asked  Jack,  lifting  his 
cap. 

Chi  patted  Little  Shaver's  neck,  shining  like  polished 
mahogany.  "  Yes,  she  's  home,  'n'  she  '11  be  glad  to  see 
you.  You  '11  find  her  right  in  the  kitchen,  'n'  I  '11  tend  to 
this  little  chap  —  what 's  his  name  ?  " 

"  Little  Shaver,  he  's  my  polo  pony." 

"  George  Washington !  He  knows  a  thing  or  two. 
He  most  winked  at  me,"  laughed  Chi. 

"  Oh,  he  knows  a  stable  when  he  sees  it,"  said  Jack, 
smiling ;  "  but  where  's  the  kitchen  ?  " 

"  Right  off  the  porch.  —  There  's  Rose  singing  now  ; 
guess  that  '11  be  as  good  a  guide-post  as  you  could  have. 
Come  along,  Little  Shaver,  —  a  good  name  for  you." 


118  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Jack  went  up  on  the  porch,  but  stopped  short  at  the 
open  door.  Rose  was  at  the  kitchen  table,  patting  out  the 
dough  for  the  rolls.  Her  sleeves  were  turned  up  above 
the  elbows,  and  the  round,  yet  delicate,  white  arms  and  the 
pretty  hands  were  working  energetically  with  the  rolling- 
pin.  She  was  singing  from  pure  lightheartedness,  and 
she  emphasized  the  rhythm  by  substantial  thumps  with 
the  culinary  utensil. 

"  '  I  told  thee  when  love  was  hopeless  ;  (thump) 
Bat  now  he  is  wild  and  sings  —  (thump) 
That  the  stars  above  (thump  !  thump!  !) 
Shine  ever  on  Love  —  (thump  —  )  " ' 

Jack  knocked  rather  loudly,  and  Rose  turned  with  a  little 
"  Oh !  "  and  an  attitude  that  made  Jack  long  for  a  button 
hole  kodak. 

"  Come  in,  Mr.  Sherrill,"  she  said,  cordially,  but  thinking 
to  herself,  "  Caught  again !  well,  I  don't  care." 

"  I  hope  I  have  n't  come  too  early  this  morning  to  be 
received,"  said  Jack,  extending  his  hand. 

"  I  can't  shake,  Mr.  Sherrill,"  laughed  Rose,  "  and  if  I 
stop  to  wash  them,  you  won't  have  any  rolls  for  tea." 

"  Do  go  on  then,"  said  Jack,  eagerly,  "  only  don't  let  me 
be  a  bother.  I  was  afraid  it  might  be  too  early  and  incon 
venience  you,  but  — 

"  Not  a  bit,"  said  Rose  as  she  turned  to  the  kneading- 
board  again.  "  If  you  don't  mind,  I  'm  sure  I  don't ;  only 
these  rolls  must  be  attended  to." 

"  You  're  very  good  to  let  me  stay  and  watch  the  pro 
cess,"  said  Jack,  humbly,  deferentially  taking  his  stand  by 


Oft. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  119 

the  table.  "  I  hope  I  shall  not  interfere  so  much  with  Mrs. 
Blossom  ;  I  forgot  that  —  that  —  "  Jack  grew  red  and 
confused. 

"  That  we  did  our  own  work  ?  "  Rose  supplied  the  rest 
of  his  thought  with  such  winning  frankness,  that  Jack 
succumbed  then  and  there  to  the  delight  of  a  novel 
experience. 

"  I  '11  be  out  in  a  few  minutes,  Mr.  Sherrill,"  called  a 
cheery  voice  from  the  pantry  behind  him.  Jack  started, 
—  then  laughed. 

"Am  I  interrupting  you,  too  Mrs.  Blossom  ?"  he  said, 
addressing  a  crack  in  the  pantry  door. 

"  I  don't  mean  to  let  you,  or  you  will  have  no  sponge 
cakes  for  tea ;  I  'm  beating  eggs  and  can't  leave  them  or 
they  '11  go  down." 

"  Can't  I  help,  Mrs.  Blossom  ?  I  've  no  end  of  unused 
muscle,"  said  Jack,  entering  into  the  fun  of  the  situation. 

"  No,  thank  you,  I  shall  be  but  a  few  minutes.  Rose 
dear,  just  feel  the  oven,  will  you?" 

Jack  began  to  think  himself  a  nonentity  in  all  this 
domesticity.  "  '  Feel  the  oven,'  "  he  said  to  himself.  "  Do 
girls  do  that  often,  I  wonder."  He  watched  Rose's  every 
movement. 

"  Now,  confess,  Mr.  Sherrill,  have  you  ever  seen  anyone 
make  biscuit  before  ? "  said  Rose,  cutting  off  a  piece  of 
dough,  flouring  it,  patting  it,  cuddling  it  in  both  hands, 
folding  it  over  with  a  little  slap  to  hold  a  bit  of  butter,  and 
tucking  it  into  the  large,  shallow  pan. 

"  No  —  "  Jack  drew  a  long  breath,  "  I  never  have.     You 


120  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

see  I  have  always  thought  it  a  kind  of  drudgery,  but 
this  —  "  Jack  sought  for  a  word  that  should  express  his 
feelings  in  regard  to  the  process  as  performed  by  Rose  — 
"  this  is,  why  —  it's  poetry  !  "  he  exclaimed  with  a  flashing 
smile  that  became  his  expressive  face  wonderfully,  and 
caused  Rose  to  fail  absolutely  in  making  a  shapely  poem 
of  the  next  roll. 

She  laughed  merrily.  "  There  now,  they  '11  soon  be 
done  —  in  good  shape  too,  if  you  don't  compliment  them 
too  much." 

"  I  '11  eat  a  dozen  of  them,  I  warn  you  now."  Jack  was 
waxing  dangerous,  for  he  was  already  possessed  with  an 
insane  desire  to  become  a  piece  of  dough  for  the  sake  of 
having  those  pretty  hands  pat  him  into  shape. 

"  Do  you  hear  that,  Martie  ?  "  cried  Rose,  flushing  with 
pleasure. 

"  Yes.  That 's  the  best  compliment  you  can  pay  them, 
Mr.  Sherrill.  I  hope  my  cakes  will  fare  as  well,"  she  said, 
coming  from  the  pantry  with  extended  hand. 

It  was  strange !  But  when  Jack  Sherrill  returned  the 
cordial  pressure  of  that  same  hand,  small,  shapely,  but  worn 
and  hardened  with  toil,  his  eyes  suddenly  filled  with  tears. 
This,  truly,  was  a  home,  with  what  makes  the  home  —  a 
mother  in  it. 

Mrs.  Blossom  saw  the  tears,  the  struggle  for  composure, 
and,  knowing  from  Hazel  he  was  motherless,  read  his 
thought ;  —  then  all  her  sweet  motherhood  came  to  the 
surface. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  she  said  with  quivering  lip.  "  it  is  very 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  121 

thoughtful  of  you  to  come  up  and  pioneer  the  way  over  the 
Mountain  for  all  your  city  friends." 

Jack  found  his  voice.  "  Mrs.  Fenlick  wanted  to  come, 
too,  Mrs.  Blossom,  but  I  managed  to  put  it  so  she  thought 
it  would  be  better  to  wait  until  afternoon.  They  are  all 
looking  forward  to  it." 

"  I  'm  sorry  Hazel  is  n't  here ;  she  is  out  picking  berries 
with  the  children.  If  Rose  had  n't  so  much  to  do,  I  'd  send 
her  to  hunt  them  up." 

Jack  protested.  He  had  come  to  call  on  Mrs.  Blossom 
and  had  detained  them  altogether  too  long. 

"  I  don't  want  to  go,"  he  said  laughingly,  "  but  I  know 
I  ought.  It  seems  almost  an  imposition  for  so  many  of  us 
to  come  up  here  and  put  you  to  all  this  trouble.  Why  did 
you  ask  us,  Miss  Blossom?"  At  which  question,  Rose  did 
not  belie  her  name,  for  a  sudden  wave  of  color  surged  into 
her  face,  and  she  looked  helplessly  and  appealingly  at  her 
mother. 

"  I  've  put  my  foot  into  it  now,"  was  Jack's  thought,  as 
Mrs.  Blossom  responded  quickly,  "  For  more  reasons  than 
one,  Mr.  Sherrill." 

They  were  out  on  the  porch;  Chi  was  bringing  up 
Little  Shaver. 

"  It  will  be  a  regular  stampede  this  afternoon,"  said 
Jack,  gayly,  as  he  vaulted  into  the  saddle.  "  Have 
you  room  enough  for  so  many  horses  ? "  He  turned 
to  Chi. 

"  Plenty  V  to  spare,  V  I  'm  goin'  to  give  'em  a  piazzy 
tea  of  their  own.  Little  Shaver  knows  all  about  it:  I  've 


122  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

told  him.  I  never  saw  but  one  horse  before  that  could 
most  talk,  V  that 's  Fleet." 

Little  Shaver  whinnied,  and  with  a  downward  thrust 
and  twist  of  his  head  tried  to  get  it  under  Chi's  arm. 

"  Did  n't  I  tell  you  ?  "  said  Chi,  delightedly. 

"  Can  I  get  on  to  the  main  road  by  going  over  the 
Mountain  ?  "  Jack  asked  him. 

"  Yes,  you  can  get  over,  if  you  ain't  particular  how  you 
get,''  said  Chi. 

"  No  road  ?  " 

"  Kind  of  a  trail ;  —  over  the  pasture  'n'  through  the 
woods,  an  acre  or  two  of  brush,  'n'  then  some  pretty  steep 
slidin'  down  the  other  side,  'n'  a  dozen  rods  of  swimmin', 
'n'  a  tough  old  clamber  up  the  bank  —  'n'  there  you  are  on 
the  river  road  as  neat  as  a  pin." 

Jack  laughed.  "  Just  what  Little  Shaver  glories  in  ; 
I  '11  try  it,  and  much  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  —  "  he  hesitated. 

"  Call  me,  Chi." 

"  Chi,"  said  Jack,  in  such  a  tone  of  good  comradeship 
that  it  brought  the  horny  hand  up  to  his  in  a  second's  time. 

Jack  grasped  it ;  "  Good-bye  till  this  afternoon."  He 
spoke  to  Little  Shaver,  who  ducked  his  head  and  fairly 
scuttled  across  the  mowing,  scrambled  up  the  pasture,  took 
the  three-rail  fence  at  the  top  in  a  sort  of  double  bow-knot 
of  a  jump,  and  then  disappeared  in  the  woods,  leaving  the 
three  gazing  after  him  in  admiration. 

"  That  feller 's  got  the  right  ring,"  said  Chi,  emphati 
cally  ;  "  but  if  he  had  n't  come  up  here  this  mornin',  first 
thing,  after  that  invite  of  Rose-pose's,  I  'd  have  set  him 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  123 

down  alongside  of  that  Miss  Seaver  —  'n'  a  pretty  low 
seat  that  would  be !  " 

"  I  '11  put  up  some  lunch,  Chi,  for  you  and  March,  and, 
if  you  can  find  him,  you  would  do  well  to  start  now  for 
the  trout." 

Mrs.  Blossom  turned  to  Rose.  "  Come,  dear,  we  Ve 
a  hundred  and  one  things  to  do  to  be  ready  in  time.  You 
may  set  the  table  on  the  porch,  and  we  '11  all  picnic  for 
dinner  to-day;  I  've  no  time  to  get  a  regular  one,  and 
father  is  n't  at  home." 

It  was  a  perfect  afternoon  on  that  second  of  September. 
At  a  quarter  of  five  Mrs.  Blossom  and  Rose  and  Hazel 
were  on  the  porch,  looking  down  upon  the  lower  road  for 
the  first  glimpse  of  the  party. 

The  table  was  set  on  the  huge  rough  veranda  that  Mr. 
Blossom  and  Chi  had  built  just  off  the  kitchen  long-room. 
Clematis  and  maiden-hair  ferns,  which  abounded  on  the 
Mountain,  were  the  decorations,  and  set  off  to  good  ad 
vantage  Mrs.  Blossom's  mother's  old-fashioned  tea-set  of 
delicate  green  and  white  china. 

On  one  end  was  a  large  china  bowl  heaped  with  black 
berries,  on  the  other  stood  a  common  glass  one  filled  with 
luscious,  red  raspberries.  The  sponge  cakes  gleamed, 
appetizingly  golden,  from  plates  covered  with  grape-vine 
leaves  for  doilies. 

The  chicken  quivered  in  its  own  jelly  on  a  platter 
wreathed  with  clematis.  The  delicious  odor  of  fried  trout 
floated  out  from  the  long-room,  and  the  rolls  were  steaming 
hot  in  snow-white  napkins. 


124  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Oh,  dear !  "  moaned  Rose.  "  Everything  will  get  cold, 
it 's  so  late." 

Just  then  there  was  a  shout  from  the  advance-guard  of 
the  twins,  and  the  cavalcade  came  into  view;  Jack  on 
Little  Shaver,  who,  after  his  thirty-mile  morning  ride,  was 
as  fresh  as  a  pastured  colt  —  riding  beside  Maude  Seaton 
on  Old  Jo. 

There  was  a  general  dismounting,  assisted  by  Chi ;  a 
gathering  and  looping  up  of  riding  habits ;  a  bit  of  general 
brushing  down  among  the  men;  then,  with  one  accord 
they  turned  to  the  broad  step  of  the  porch. 

Mrs.  Fenlick,  telling  of  it  afterwards,  said  that,  for  a 
moment,  she  did  nothing  but  look  with  all  her  eyes ;  for 
there  on  the  porch  step  stood  a  woman  still  in  the  prime 
of  life  and  beautiful.  She  was  dressed  in  an  India  mull  of 
the  fashion  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  with  a  lace 
kerchief  folded  in  a  V  about  the  open  neck,  and  fastened 
with  an  old-fashioned  brooch. 

"  At  her  side,"  said  Mrs.  Fenlick,  "  stood  one  of  the 
loveliest  girls  off  of  canvas  I  have  ever  seen.  She  had  on 
a  gown  of  old-fashioned  lawn  —  pale  blue  with  a  rose-bud 
border.  She  was  tall  and  straight,  and  the  skirt  was  a 
little  skimpy,  and  so  plain  that  had  she  designed  it  to  set 
off  the  grace  of  her  figure  she  could  n't  have  succeeded 
better.  And  the  face  and  head !  "  Mrs.  Fenlick  used  to 
wax  eloquent  at  this  point  —  "  were  simply  ideal.  Hazel, 
of  course,  looked  as  handsome  as  a  picture  in  her  full,  dark 
blue  frock  of  wash  silk  trimmed  with  Irish  lace,  and  with 
that  rich  color  in  her  cheeks  —  but  that  girl's  face  was 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  125 

simply  divine  !  Just  imagine  a  complexion  of  pure  white, 
and  dark  blue  eyes — real  violet  color  —  black  almost  in 
her  pretty  excitement  of  welcoming  us,  and  the  loveliest 
golden  brown  hair  just  plaited  and  puffed  a  little  at  the 
temples,  and  a  braid,  that  big—  "  Mrs.  Fenlick  generally  put 
her  two  delicate  wrists  together  at  this  point,  —  "  that  fell 
below  her  waist  fully  half  a  yard  !  I  never  saw  such  hair ! " 

Mrs.  Fenlick  used  to  pause  for  breath  at  this  point,  and 
then  add,  "  Well,  the  whole  thing  was  too  lovely  to  be 
described.  Of  course,  we  ate  —  lots ;  for  that  ride  and  the 
air  were  enough  to  make  a  saint  hungry  in  Lent,  but  I  was 
only  dimly  conscious  of  ever  so  many  good  things  I  was 
eating,  for  that  face  fascinated  me.  And  manners  !  Just 
as  if  those  two  women  had  had  nothing  to  do  all  their 
lives  but  entertain  royalty! 

"  I  had  sense  enough,  however,  to  notice  that  Jack 
Sherrill  said  very  little  and  ate  a  great  deal.  I  counted 
twelve  rolls  —  of  course  they  were  small  —  for  one  thing; 
and  I  don't  blame  him,  —  I  wanted  more.  Well,  the  whole 
thing  was  perfect  —  the  valley  and  the  great  mountains 
were  just  in  front  of  the  porch,  and  everything  harmonized. 
Even  that  lovely  girl  had  a  bunch  of  purple-blue  pansies 
at  her  belt  and  a  few  in  the  bit  of  cotton  lace  at  her  throat ; 
and  the  sunset  and  the  mountains  matched  them  —  as  if 
she  had  had  the  whole  thing  made  to  order." 

Mrs.  Fenlick  always  ended  with,  "  I  Ve  got  one  bone 
to  pick  with  that  dear  Doctor  Heath  —  a  mountain  san 
atorium  !  I  'd  be  willing,  almost,  to  get  nervous  prostra 
tion  to  be  sent  up  there. 


126  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  But  oh  1  you  should  have  seen  Maude  Seaton  !  "  And 
thereupon,  Mrs.  Fenlick  would  go  off  into  a  fit  of  laughter 
at  the  remembrance.  "  She  was  looking  about  for  the 
*  rigid  sunbonnet,'  as  she  called  it,  of  the  day  before,  and 
did  n't  hear  when  Rose  Blossom  spoke  to  her ;  and  when 
she  did  realize  that  the  two  were  one  and  the  same,  her 
look  was  the  kind  '  Life  '  likes  to  get  hold  of,  you  know. 

"  As  for  Jack  Sherrill,"  Mrs.  Fenlick  concluded  in  her 
most  serious  manner,  "  I  have  my  own  thoughts  about 
some  things."  More  than  that  she  would  not  say,  for 
fear  it  might  get  back  to  Maude  Seaton's  ears. 

Jack,  too,  had  his  own  thoughts  about  some  things  — 
and  kept  them  to  himself. 


XII 

RESULTS 

IT  was  the  middle  of  November.  A  wild,  cold  wind 
was  sweeping  over  the  Mountain,  and  driving  black  clouds 
in  quick  succession  across  the  tops  of  the  woodlands.  It 
howled  around  the  farmhouse  and,  as  now  and  again  a 
more  furious  blast  hurled  itself  against  doors  and  windows, 
the  children  drew  nearer  together  on  the  rug  before  the 
huge  fireplace  with  a  delightful  sense  of  safety  and 
cosiness. 

A  kettle  of  molasses  was  simmering  on  the  stove,  and 
Chi  was  wielding  the  corn-popper  with  truly  professional 
skill  before  the  open  fire. 

It  was  such  fun  to  see  the  hurry,  and  scurry,  and  hustle, 
and  rattle,  and  pop,  and  sudden  white  transformation  of 
the  heated  kernels  !  A  huge,  wooden  bowl  received  the 
contents  of  the  popper,  and  March  salted  them.  Oh,  how 
good  it  smelt !  And  Rose  was  going  to  make  molasses 
corn-balls  to  put  aside  for  the  next  evening. 

"  It 's  just  like  having  a  party  every  night,  there 
are  so  many  of  us,"  said  Hazel,  clapping  her  hands  in 
delight. 

"  I  should  think  you  'd  miss  some  of  your  real  parties, 
Hazel,"  said  Rose,  thoughtfully. 


128  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Miss  them  !  Not  a  bit ;  why,  they  are  n't  half  so  nice 
as  this,  and  at  home  it's  so  lonesome  when  papa  isn't 
there.  Is  n't  it  lovely  to  think  he  's  coming  up  Christmas  ? 
Even  up  here,  you  know,  it  would  n't  be  quite  Christmas 
for  me  without  him.  That  makes  me  think,  I  must  write 
him  very  soon  about  some  things."  Hazel  looked  mys 
terious. 

"  We  hung  up  our  stockings  last  year,  but  we  did  n't 
get  what  we  wanted,"  said  Cherry  rather  mournfully. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Hazel. 

"  Coz  Popsey  was  so  sick  he  could  n't  go  out  to  the 
Wishing-Tree,  and  so  he  did  n't  know." 

"  What  is  the  Wishing-Tree  ?  "  said  Hazel,  consumed 
with  curiosity. 

Cherry's  mouth  was  full  of  corn,  so  Budd  carried  on  the 
conversation  between  mouthfuls. 

"  I  '11  show  you  to-morrow.  It's  a  big  butternut  up  in 
the  corner  of  the  pasture,  an'  there  's  a  little  hollow  in  the 
trunk  where  the  squirrels  used  to  hide  beech-nuts,  but 
March  has  made  a  door  to  it  with  a  hinge  and  put  a 
little  padlock  on  it — that's  the  key  hanging  up  on  the 
clock." 

Hazel  saw  a  tiny  key  suspended  by  a  string  from  one  of 
the  pointed  knobs  that  ornamented  the  tall  clock. 

"  'N'  nobody  touches  it  till  All-hallow-e'en,"  said  Cherry, 
when  the  sound  of  her  munching  had  somewhat  dimin 
ished,  although  her  articulation  was  by  no  means  clear. 
"  'N'  then  Chi  goes  up  with  us  in  the  dark,  'n'  we  put  in 
our  wishes,  'n'  —  " 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  129 

"  Let  me  tell  Hazel,"  said  Budd.  "  You  've  begun  at 
the  wrong  end.  You  see,  we  write  what  we  want  for 
Christmas  down  on  paper,  an'  seal  it  with  beeswax,  an' 
then  don't  tell  anybody  what  we  Ve  written ;  an'  then 
Chi  goes  up  there  with  us  after  dark,  an'  we  're  all  dressed 
up  like  Injuns  —  " 

"  Indians,  Budd,"  corrected  March. 

"Well,  Old  Pertic'lar,  Indians,  then,"  said  Budd,  a 
little  crossly,  "  an'  then  — 

"  Oh,  you  've  forgot  the  dish-pan  and  the  little  tub," 
Cherry's  voice  came  muffled  through  the  corn.  "  We 
take  the  dish-pan,  Hazel,  'n'  the  little  wash-tub,  me  'n' 
Budd  between  us,  'n'  beat  on  them  with  the  iron  spoon 
'n'  the  dish-mop  handle,  'n'  play  '  tom-toms '  - 

"  Yes,  an'  March  gives  an  awful  war-whoop  —  "  Budd, 
in  his  earnestness,  had  risen  and  gone  over  to  Chi's  side, 
and  now  sat  down  by  the  big  bowl,  but,  unfortunately,  on 
the  popper  which  Chi  had  just  emptied.  There  was  a 
smell  of  scorched  wool,  and,  simultaneously,  a  wild,  "  Oh, 
gee-whiz  ! !  "  from  Budd,  who  leaped  as  if  shot,  and  stood 
ruefully  rubbing  the  seat  of  his  well-patched  knicker 
bockers,  while  the  rest  rolled  over  on  the  rug  in  their 
merriment. 

"  Oh,  do  go  on,  Budd !  "  cried  Hazel,  wiping  the  tears 
of  mirth  from  her  eyes.  Cherry  had  laughed  so  hard  that 
she  was  hiccoughing  with  outrageous  rapidity ;  and  March 
—  forgetting  May  —  chose  that  opportune  moment  to  give 
forth  a  specimen  of  his  best  war-whoop,  for  the  purpose,  as 
he  explained  afterwards,  of  frightening  her  out  of  them. 


130  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

By  the  time  order  had  been  restored,  Cherry  was  able 
to  take  up  the  thread  of  the  story; 

"  'N'  we  join  hands  —  Chi  'n'  all  of  us  —  'n'  sing  as  loud 
as  we  can  sing : 

"  '  Intery,  mintery,  cutery  corn, 
Apple  seed,  apple  thorn ; 
Wire,  briar,  limber  lock, 
Five  geese  in  a  flock  — 
Sit  and  sing  by  the  spring ; 
You  are  OUT.' 

Then  we  all  give  a  great  shout  and  grunt  like  In-di-ans  — ," 
said  Cherry,  emphatically,  looking  at  March ;  and  March 
nodded  approval. 

"  How 's  that  ? "  asked  Hazel,  who  was  listening  with 
all  her  ears. 

"  A  hannah  —  a  hannah  —  a  hannah,"  grunted  the  chil 
dren  as  well  as  they  could,  hampered  by  mouths  full  of 
corn.  "  An'  then,"  Avent  on  Budd,  "  we  drop  the  wishes 
into  the  hollow  in  the  tree-trunk,  an'  Chi  locks  the  door 
an'  keeps  it,  an'  —  " 

"  'N'  each  of  us  ties  two  feathers  from  a  rooster's  tail  to 
different  colored  strings,  'n'  fastens  them  on  to  a  branch 
of  the  tree,  'n'  that  brings  us  good  luck ;  March  calls 
it  'winging  the  wishes.'  That's  the  way  we  get  our 
presents." 

"  Oh,  what  fun !  "  cried  Hazel.  "  May  I  do  it  this 
year  ?  " 

"  Course,"  replied  Budd,  "  but  how  will  your  father 
know  anything  about  it  ?  " 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  131 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  said  Hazel,  all  her  Christmas 
castles  toppling  over  suddenly. 

"  We  '11  fix  it  somehow,  Lady-bird,"  said  Chi,  who,  hav 
ing  finished  his  labors,  had  seated  himself  in  a  chair 
behind  the  children  and  provided  himself  with  a  private 
bowl  of  his  own. 

"  But  now,  speakin'  of  roosters,  I  'd  like  to  know  how 
you  're  comin'  out  about  chicken  money.  I  sold  the  last 
lot  but  one  down  in  Barton's  to-day.  There  's  been  a  lot 
of  express  to  pay,  'n'  I  thought  I  'd  better  pay  dividends 
to-night,  'n'  get  it  off  my  mind,  seein'  it 's  most  Wishin'- 
Tree  time." 

Rose  took  her  little  account  book  from  her  pocket. 
"  We  cleared  one  hundred  and  ten  dollars  on  our  preserves 
and  jams  after  we  'd  paid  Hazel  what  we  had  borrowed 
for  the  jars  and  sugar,  and  paid  for  the  express  and  boxes. 
I  'in  awfully  sorry  we  could  n't  fill  all  the  orders,  but  we  '11 
try  to  next  year.  I  '11  go  and  get  the  money.  I  like  to 
look  at  it,  knowing  it  means  so  much  to  us  all.'' 

She  ran  upstairs  and  came  back  with  a  little  wooden 
box  that  Chi  had  made  for  her  years  ago.  The  children 
crowded  about  her.  "  There,"  said  Rose,  proudly,  as  she 
took  out  the  money  and  smoothed  it,  one  crisp  bill  after 
another,  on  her  knees  ;  "  they  're  all  in  ones,  so  it  will 
seem  as  if  we  had  more  when  we  divide.  Now  we  Ve 
agreed  to  divide  this  equally,  so  that  '11  make  just  twenty- 
two  apiece." 

"  Let 's  play  '  Hold-fast-all-I-give-you  '  in  earnest,"  said 
Cherry,  sitting  down  again  on  the  rug  and  holding  out 


132  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

her  hands.  "  That  '11  be  twenty-two  times  round  and 
make  it  seem  a  lot  more." 

"  Good  for  you,  Cherry,"  said  March,  approvingly,  and 
they  all  followed  her  example.  With  a  gravity  befitting 
the  occasion,  the  "  truly-bruly  "  game,  as  Budd  called  it, 
went  on  to  the  supreme  satisfaction  of  those  interested  as 
well  as  the  enjoyment  of  father  and  mother  and  Chi ;  for 
to  the  two  former  the  money-making  had  long  been,  of 
necessity,  an  open  secret. 

Chi,  after  watching  them  a  little  while,  left  the  room. 
When  he  reappeared  a  few  minutes  later,  he  was  greeted 
with  a  prolonged  "  Ah  !  "  of  satisfaction  ;  for  in  one  hand 
he  held  his  old  accounkbook,  and  in  the  other  a  long,  dark 
blue  woollen  stocking  which  bulged  fearfully  from  the  toe 
halfway  up  the  leg,  where  it  was  tied  with  a  stout  piece 
of  leather  whip-lash. 

The  whole  business  of  disposing  of  the  chickens  had 
been  intrusted  to  Chi,  and  the  members  of  the  N.  B.  B. 
O.  O.  Society  had  pledged  themselves  not  to  ask  him  any 
questions  in  regard  to  the  sale  of  them  until  he  should 
tell  them  of  his  own  accord.  This  pledge  they  had  kept, 
and  now  they  were  to  have  their  rewards. 

"  If  this  is  going  to  be  a  meeting  of  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O. 
Society,  I  move  we  ask  those  who  aren't  members  to 
adjourn  to  the  bedroom,"  said  March,  looking  signifi 
cantly  at  his  mother  and  father.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blossom 
took  the  hint,  and,  without  waiting  for  anyone  to  "second 
the  motion,"  betook  themselves,  laughing,  into  the  other 
room. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  133 

"  Guess  we  '11  sit  up  to  the  table  V  count  it  out,"  said 
Chi,  "  coz  we  don't  want  any  of  it  to  fly  up  chimney.  We 
should  never  find  it  again  in  this  gale." 

He  emptied  the  stocking  of  its  contents  —  bills,  pennies, 
and  silver  pieces  of  all  denominations  —  upon  the  table,  and 
the  children  drew  up  their  chairs. 

"  Now  we  '11  sort,"  said  Chi.  "  You  take  the  bills,  Rose, 
'n'  the  rest  take  the  other  pieces,  V  make  little  piles  before 
you  of  a  dollar  each.  Then  we  can  reckon  up  easy.  I  '11 
take  the  pennies  and  the  nickels." 

"  I  choose  the  ten-cent  pieces,"  said  Cherry,  "  an'  you 
take  the  quarters,  Budd."  March  and  Hazel  took  the 
rest. 

"  This  is  a  kind  of  stockholders'  meetin',"  said  Chi,  as 
the  piles  were  completed.  "  We  '11  divide  the  proceeds 
accordin'  the  number  of  hens  each  set ;  coz  I  could  n't 
keep  run  of  so  many  chicks  after  they'd  struck  out  for 
themselves." 

He  opened  his  book. 

"  Here  's  some  items  you  better  hear,  before  you  find  any 
fault  with  the  management : 

"  Mem.     July.     15  chicks  killed  by  hen-hawks. 

"  Mem.     August.     21  chicks  died  of  the  pip. 

"  Mem.     September.     Skunks  stole  ten. 

"  Mem.     October.     2  can't  find. 

"  There  's  a  dead  loss  to  all  the  stockholders,  share  'n' 
share  alike.  Now  for  expenses : 

"  Mem.     Corn  for  feed  till  October  —  7  bushels. 

"  Mem.     November.      Express,  $5.50.      Crates   for  ex- 


134  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

pressin'  —  $1.10.  Now  for  the  profits !  "  said  Chi,  with  a 
ring  of  triumph  in  his  voice.  "  Count  up  your  piles." 

How  the  cheeks  flushed  and  the  eyes  grew  dark  with 
excitement  as  the  counting  proceeded:  "One  hundred  — 
one  hundred  and  thirty-two  —  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
seven  —  two  hundred !  " 

"  Oh-ee !  "  cried  Hazel,  as  March  fairly  thundered  "  Two 
hundred  !  "  "  There  's  more,  there  's  more  I  " 

"  Go  on,  go  on  !  "  she  cried  again,  almost  beside  herself 
with  excitement. 

"Two  hundred  and  seven  — TWO  HUNDRED  AND 
SEVENTEEN ! ! " 

"  Chi ! "  exclaimed  Rose,  almost  breathless,  "  How  did 
you  make  all  that  ?  "  and  thereupon,  without  waiting  for 
his  answer,  she  sprang  up  from  her  chair,  and,  to  Chi's 
amazement,  took  his  weather-worn  face  between  her  two 
hands,  and  popped  a  kiss  upon  his  forehead. 

Chi  cleared  his  throat  and  attempted  to  make  his  expla 
nation,  but  was  interrupted  by  March,  who  got  hold  of  his 
right  hand  and  wrung  it  without  speaking.  Chi  saw  the 
boy  turn  a  little  white  about  the  mouth  and  his  gray  eyes 
flash  through  tears ;  words  were  not  needed. 

Budd  and  Cherry  did  not  realize  all  this  meant  to  the 
elder  brother  and  sister,  but  they  did  not  wish  to  be  out 
done  by  the  others  in  expressing  their  appreciation  of  Chi. 
So  Budd  thumped  him  unmercifully  on  the  back,  saying, 
"  You  're  a  trump,  Chi ;  tell  us  how  you  did  it,"  in  a  most 
patronizing  tone,  and  Cherry  danced  around  the  table, 
singing ;  "  I  love  my  Love  with  a  big,  big  C  !  " 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  135 

Hazel  looked  on,  rejoicing  in  their  joy,  but  wondering 
why  such  a  little  sum,  less  than  her  yearly  allowance, 
should  create  all  that  happiness. 

"  But  tell  us  how  you  did  it,  Chi,"  said  Rose  again. 

"  Well,  I  sold  most  of  them  for  broilers,  they  bring  a 
pretty  good  price ;  'n'  then  I  sold  the  feathers ;  'n'  you 
forget  all  those  forty  hens  have  been  layin'  the  last  two 
months,  'n'  I  sold  the  eggs.  Then,  too,  —  "a  slow  smile 
wrinkled  Chi's  eyes  —  "I  was  n't  interfered  with,  'n'  that 
made  a  great  difference  in  the  business.  How  much  have 
you  got  altogether?" 

"  Three  hundred  and  twenty-seven  dollars,"  said  March. 

"  What  you  goin'  to  do  with  it?  that's  the  next  question. 
You  can't  let  your  money  lay  round  in  wooden  boxes  'n' 
old  stockin's.  It  ought  to  be  bringing  you  in  interest." 

"  I  'm  going  to  give  my  share  to  Rose,  to  prepare  for 
college  with,"  said  Hazel. 

"  Indeed,  I  sha'n't  take  your  money,  Hazel ;  you  've 
earned  it  fairly  for  yourself.  I  should  be  ashamed  to 
accept  it,  but  it 's  lovely  of  you  to  think  of  it  —  Why, 
Hazel !  "  she  cried,  throwing  her  arm  around  her,  for  the 
tears  were  rolling  down  Hazel's  cheeks,  and  her  chest 
heaving  with  a  bona  fide  sob. 

But  Hazel  flung  off  the  encircling  arm  and  threw  herself 
full  length  upon  the  settle  in  an  abandonment  of  woe. 

"I  don't  care  anything  about  your  old  money,"  she 
sobbed.  "  I  did  n't  want  it  for  myself,  and  I  've  worked  so 
hard  picking  berries  and  all  —  and  you  said  you  'd  keep 
the  by-law  —  and  I  've  been  so  happy  working  to  help 


136  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

others,  and  I  never  would  have  believed  it  of  you,  Rose 
Blossom,  that  you  'd  go  back  on  your  word  —  you  promised 
—  you  promised  to  help  others  —  a  regular  solemn  pi-pledge, 
Chi  says,  and  now  —  and  the  only  way  you  could  help  me 
—  was  to  let  —  to  let  me  help  y-ou-oo-oo  !  " 

March  and  Rose  looked  at  each  other  aghast  at  this 
unwonted  outburst  from  Hazel,  and  Mrs.  Blossom,  hearing 
the  wail,  made  her  appearance  from  the  bedroom. 

"  Why,  Hazel  dear,  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  said. 

"  They  've  spoiled  all  my  good  times,"  sobbed  Hazel, 
refusing  to  be  comforted  even  when  Mrs.  Blossom,  sitting 
down  by  her,  stroked  her  head  and  begged  her  to  sit  up 
and  tell  her  all  about  it. 

"  Oh,  mother ! "  cried  Rose,  holding  back  the  tears  as 
well  as  she  could,  "  it 's  all  my  fault.  It 's  my  old  pride 
that  keeps  coming  up  at  every  little  thing,  somehow, 
and  I  know  it  '11  be  the  death  of  me !  March  has  it, 
too ;  and  between  us  we  have  made  it  just  horrid  for 
Hazel." 

"  Why,  Rose,  what  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  her  mother, 
gravely. 

"  Things  that  we  've  kept  from  you,  Martie.  Hazel 
wanted  to  give  us  the  jars  and  the  sugar,  and  we  would  n't 
let  her ;  and  she  wanted  to  give  me  a  blue  wash  silk  like 
hers,  because  I  said  I  wished  I  could  afford  one  like  it,  — 
and  I  —  and  I  was  a  little  angry,  and  showed  it ;  and 
March  spoke  up  and  said  we  would  n't  be  patronized  if  we 
were  poor  —  " 

"  Why,  March  Blossom  !  "  was  all  his  mother  said. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  137 

"  Yes,"  broke  in  Budd,  ready  to  place  himself  on  the 
side  of  righteousness,  "  an'  Cherry  told  her  that  March 
called  her  '  a  perfect  guy,'  an'  that  meant  she  was  homely ; 
an'  that  Chi  said  she  was  awful  poor,  an'  we  were  a  great 
deal  richer  than  she  was,  an'  that  you  would  n't  have  had 
her  here  if  you  had  n't  pitied  her  — 

"  Children !  "  Not  one  of  them  ever  remembered  to 
have  heard  their  mother  speak  with  such  stern  anger  in 
her  voice.  "  I  'm  ashamed  of  you ;  you  have  disgraced 
your  parents'  name."  Then  she  turned  to  Hazel,  drew 
her  up  into  her  arms,  and  said,  tenderly: 

"  Hazel,  my  dear  little  girl,  why  did  n't  you  come  to 
me  with  this  trouble?" 

"  Because  —  because  you  were  n't  my  mother,  you  were 
theirs  ;  but,  oh !  I  wish  you  were  mine  !  I  love  you  so  — 
Hazel  flung  both  arms  around  Mrs.  Blossom's  neck  and 
sobbed  out,  —  "I  've  wanted  to  call  you  Mother  Blossom 
and  hug  and  kiss  you  like  the  rest  —  but  Cherry  was  so 
jealous  —  the  first  time  I  did  it  —  that  she  —  she  stuck 
burrs  in  my  bed  and  led  me  through  the  nettle-patch  when 
we  were  raspberrying,  because  she  knew  I  did  n't  know 
nettles ;  and  Chi  told  me  we  'd  got  to  be  brave  if  we 
joined  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.,  and  I  knew  I  ought  to  bear  it 
-  for  I  do  love  to  be  here  —  and  I  love  them  all,  for  most 
of  the  time  they  're  lovely  to  me ;  —  and  I  don't  think 
you  've  been  horrid,  Rose,  only  you  did  hurt  my  feelings 
when  you  would  n't  let  me  give  you  the  blue  silk  —  and  — 
and  it  is  n't  my  fault  if  I  am  rich,  and  it  isn't  fair  not  to 
like  me  for  it  1  " 


138  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"No  more  it  ain't,  Lady-bird,"  said  Chi,  who,  after 
drawing  the  back  of  his  hand  across  his  eyes,  was  appar 
ently  the  only  dry-eyed  one  in  the  room.  March  had 
flung  himself  on  the  other  end  of  the  settle  and  buried  his 
face  deep  among  the  patch-work  cushions.  Rose  was 
sobbing  outright  with  her  head  on  her  arms  as  she  sat  at 
the  dining-room  table. 

Cherry,  in  her  shame  and  misery  —  for  she  had  come  to 
love  Hazel  dearly  without  wholly  conquering  her  jealousy 
—  softly  opened  the  pantry  door  and  slipped  inside  where 
she  sniffed  to  her  heart's  content.  As  for  Budd,  he  stood 
over  the  wood-box,  repiling  its  contents  while  the  tears 
ran  off  his  nose  so  fast  that  he  saw  all  the  sticks  double 
through  them. 

"You  may  go  to  bed,  children,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom,  still 
holding  Hazel  in  her  arms.  At  this  fiat,  there  was  a 
general  increase  in  the  humidity  of  the  atmosphere ;  and, 
knowing  perfectly  well  when  their  mother  spoke  in  that 
tone,  that  words,  tears,  or  prayers  would  not  avail,  they, 
one  and  all,  —  for  Cherry  had  been  listening  at  the  pantry 
door,  — made  a  rush  for  the  stairs  and  stumbled  up,  blinded 
by  their  tears. 

Mrs.  Blossom  led  Hazel  still  sobbing  into  her  own  little 
bedroom,  and  shut  the  door. 

Chi,  president  of  the  vanished  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  Society, 
was  left  alone.  He  gazed  meditatively  awhile  at  the  little 
piles  of  money  and  the  vacant  chairs  opposite  each.  Then 
he  gathered  them  up  carefully  and  placed  them  in  orderly 
rows  in  the  wooden  box.  His  next  move  was  to  the  shed 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  139 

door.  As  he  opened  it,  a  gust  of  wind  extinguished  the 
lamp  on  the  table. 

"  Guess  I  '11  go  to  bed,  too,"  said  Chi  to  himself,  coming 
back  for  the  box,  which  the  firelight  showed  plainly 
enough.  "  The  barometer 's  dropped,  V  it  always  makes 
me  feel  low  in  my  mind." 

He  heaved  a  prodigious  sigh  and  went  out  into  the  shed 
and  up  the  back  stairs.  The  wooden  box  he  put  under 
the  head  of  the  mattress;  he  barricaded  the  door  and 
placed  his  rifle  beside  it  against  the  wall.  Then  he  turned 
in  and  drew  the  coverlet  up  over  his  head  with  another 
sigh,  so  long,  so  profound,  that  it  mingled  with  the  wind 
as  it  swept  through  the  cracks  of  the  shed  beneath,  and 
made  a  part  of  the  dismality  of  the  night. 

Mrs.  Blossom  returned  to  the  long-room,  and,  sitting 
down  in  her  low  rocker  before  the  fire,  waited.  She  knew 
her  children. 

Soon,  it  might  have  been  within  half  an  hour,  she  heard 
Rose  call  softly  at  the  top  of  the  stairs  :  — 

"Martie." 

"  Yes,  Rose." 

"  May  I  come  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"  O  Martie  !  may  I,  too  ?  "  wailed  Cherry. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  'm  coming,  mother,"  said  March,  speaking  in  a  low, 
determined  voice  through  the  knot-hole. 

"  Very  well,  March." 

"  Come  along,  Budd,"  said  March,  and  Budd  was  only 


140  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

too  glad  to  grip  his  brother's  pajamas  and  follow 
after. 

Down  they  came,  tiptoeing  in  their  bare  feet,  Rose 
heading  the  penitential  procession.  She  knelt  by  her 
mother's  side,  and  March  and  Budcl  and  Cherry  knelt,  too. 

Then,  to  their  mother's,  "  Are  you  truly  ready,  chil 
dren  ?  "  they  answered  heartily,  "  Yes,  Martie." 

Together  they  said  in  subdued  but  earnest  tones,  "  Our 
Father ; "  together  they  prayed,  " '  Forgive  us  our  tres 
passes  as  we  forgive  those  who  trespass  against  us '  "  — 
and  after  the  heart-felt,  "  Amen,"  each  received  a  kiss  by 
way  of  absolution ;  and  together,  until  the  clock  struck 
ten,  they  talked  the  whole  matter  over  and  resolved  to 
fight  their  Apollyons  daily  and  hourly,  and,  with  God'3 
grace,  conquer  them. 

These  were  the  rare  hours,  the  memory  of  which  held 
March  Blossom  in  the  way  of  right  and  honor  when  he 
went  out  to  battle  for  himself  in  the  world.  These  were 
the  hours,  the  memory  of  which  kept  him  in  his  college 
days  unspotted  from  the  world.  It  was  such  an  hour 
that  ripened  Rose  Blossom  into  a  thinking,  feeling  woman, 
and  made  Budd  into  a  knight  of  the  Twentieth  Century. 

It  was  for  such  an  hour  that  Jack  Sherrill  would  have 
given  his  entire  fortune. 


XIII 

A   SOCIAL   ADDITION 

IT  was  a  chastened  household  that  gathered  about  the 
breakfast  table  the  next  morning ;  and  for  a  week  after 
wards,  every  one  was  so  thoughtful  and  considerate  of 
everybody  else  that  Mrs.  Blossom  said,  laughing,  to  her 
husband ;  "  They  're  so  angelic,  Ben,  I  'm  afraid  they  are 
all  going  to  be  ill.  I  declare,  I  miss  their  little  naughti 
nesses." 

Several  things  had  been  settled  during  the  week  and, 
apparently,  to  everyone's  satisfaction.  At  a  very  serious- 
minded  meeting  of  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.,  it  had  been  decided 
to  keep  the  larger  part  of  the  money  in  order  to  start 
March  on  his  career.  Not  without  protest,  however,  on 
March's  part.  But  he  was  overruled.  Rose  argued  that 
if  he  were  going  to  college,  he  must  begin  to  prepare  that 
very  winter,  and  if  their  earnings  were  divided  among 
the  five,  no  one  would  reap  any  special  benefit  from  them, 
least  of  all,  March. 

"I  can  wait  well  enough  another  year,  perhaps  two," 
she  said;  "and,  meanwhile,  we'll  be  earning  more.  But 
you,  March,  ought  to  be  in  the  academy  at  Barton's  this 
very  minute." 


142  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  I  know  it,"  said  March,  dejectedly ;  "  but  I  do  hate 
to  take  girls'  money ;  somehow,  it  does  not  seem  quite  — 
quite  manly," 

"  Better  remember  what  your  mother  talked  to  you  'bout 
last  Sunday,  'bout  its  bein'  more  of  a  blessin'  to  give  than 
to  get,"  said  Chi,  sententiously. 

"  I  do  remember,  and  there  's  nobody  in  the  world  I  'd 
be  more  willing  to  take  it  from  than  from  you,  all  of  you, 
but—" 

"  Me,  too  ? "  interrupted  Hazel,  leaning  nearer  with 
great,  eager,  questioning  eyes. 

"  Yes,  you,  too,  Hazel,"  March  replied  gently,  with  such 
unwonted  humility  of  spirit  shining  through  his  rare, 
sweet  smile,  that  Hazel  bounced  up  from  her  seat  at  the 
table,  and,  going  behind  March's  chair,  clasped  both  arms 
tightly  around  his  neck,  laid  the  dark,  curly  head  down 
upon  the  top  of  his  golden  one,  exclaiming  delightedly : 

"  Oh,  March,  you  are  the  dearest  fellow  in  the  world. 
I  never  thought  you  'd  give  in  so  —  and  I  love  you  for  it ! 
There  now,"  —  with  a  big  squeeze  of  the  golden  head  — 
"  you  Ve  made  me  superfluously  happy."  Hazel  took  her 
seat,  flushed  rosy  red  in  pleasurable  anticipation  of  being 
allowed,  at  last,  to  give  to  those  she  loved,  and  wholly 
unmindful  of  her  slip  of  the  tongue. 

"  Now  that 's  settled,  I  move  that  each  of  you  keep  three 
dollars  of  that  money  'gainst  the  Wishiu'-Tree  business. 
Chris'mus  '11  be  here  'fore  you  can  say  *  Jack  Robinson." '' 

"  Second  the  motion,"  said  Budd  and  Cherry  in  the 
same  breath. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  143 

It  was  a  unanimous  vote. 

"There  is  just  one  thing  I  want  to  say,"  said  March, 
who,  in  a  bewilderment  of  happy  emotions,  had  been 
unable  to  reply  one  word  to  Hazel,  "  and  that  is,  that  I 
want  you  to  consider  that  you  have  lent  it  to  me  and 
let  me  have  the  pleasure  of  paying  back,  sometime,  when 
I  am  a  man." 

"That's  fair  enough,"  said  Chi.  "I  glory  in  your 
independence,  Markis.  That's  the  right  kind  to  have. 
Put  it  to  vote." 

Again  there  was  a  unanimous  vote  of  approval,  for  they 
all  knew  that  to  one  of  March's  proud  spirit  it  meant 
much  to  accept  the  money,  from  the  girls  especially ;  and 
they  felt  it  would  make  him  happier  if  he  were  to  accept 
it  as  a  loan. 

"  I  can  save  a  lot  by  not  boarding  down  at  Barton's, 
and  by  working  for  my  board  at  the  tavern,  or  in  some 
family,"  said  March,  thoughtfully. 

"  No  you  don't,"  said  Chi,  emphatically.  "  'T  ain't  no 
way  for  a  boy  to  be  doin'  chores  before  he  goes  to  school 
in  the  mornin'  V  tendin'  horses  after  he  gets  out  in  the 
afternoon.  If  you  're  goin'  to  try  for  college  in  two  years, 
you  've  got  to  buckle  right  down  to  it  —  V  not  waste  time 
workin'  for  other  folks  that  ain't  your  own.  Here  comes 
Mis'  Blossom,  we  '11  ask  her  what  she  has  to  say  about  it." 

"  Why,  Martie,  where  have  you  been  all  this  afternoon  ? 
I  saw  you  and  father  driving  off  in  such  a  sly  sort  of  way, 
I  knew  you  didn't  want  us  to  know  where  you  were 
going.  Now,  'fess  ! "  laughed  Rose. 


144  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  'Fess,  'fess,  Martie !  "  cried  Budd  and  Cherry,  hilari 
ously  breaking  up  the  meeting.  "  We  've  got  you  now  !  " 
And  without  more  ado  they  anchored  her  to  the  settle, 
each  linked  to  an  arm,  while  Hazel  took  off  her  hood, 
March  drew  off  her  rubbers,  and  Rose  unpinned  her  shawl. 

Mrs.  Blossom  laughed.     "  No,  you  guess,"  she  replied. 

"  Down  to  the  Mill  Settlement?" 

"  Wrong." 

"  Over  to  Aunt  Tryphosa's  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Down  to  see  the  Spillkinses  ?  " 

"  Wrong  again." 

"  Over  eastwards  to  the  Morris  farm,"  said  Chi. 

"  Right,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom,  smiling.  "  How  did  you 
know,  Chi?" 

"I  didn't,  just  guessed  it;  coz  I  knew  the  new  folks 
was  goin'  to  move  in  this  week." 

"  What  new  folks  ?  "  chorussed  the  children  in  surprise. 

"  An  addition  to  the  Lost  Nation,"  replied  their  mother, 
"  and  a  very  charming  one.  Now  there  are  live  families 
on  our  Mountain." 

"  Who  are  they,  Martie  ?  "  —  "  Are  you  going  to  ask 
them  to  Thanksgiving,  too  ?  "  —  "  What 's  their  name  ?  " 
—  "How  many  are  there  of  them?"  —"Any  boys?" 
They  were  all  talking  together. 

"  One  at  a  time,  please,"  laughed  Mrs.  Blossom,  putting 
her  hands  over  her  ears.  "  I  never  heard  such  mill-clappers ! " 

"  Do  huriy  up,  mother,"  said  March,  appealingly. 

"A  young  man  from  New  Haven  has  taken  the  lease  of 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  145 

the  farm  for  three  years.  He  has  his  mother  and  sister 
with  him.  He  was  in  the  law  school  at  Yale  until  last 
spring ;  then  his  father  died,  and  his  sister,  a  little  older 
than  you,  Rose,  was  injured  in  some  accident  —  I  don't 
know  what  it  was  —  and  now  she  is  very  delicate.  The 
doctor  says  if  she  can  live  in  this  mountain  country  for  a 
few  years,  she  may  recover  her  health.  The  brother  and 
mother  are  perfectly  devoted  to  her.  She  calls  herself 
a  '  Shut-in'  —  " 

"  Then  she  can't  come  over  for  Thanksgiving  dinner," 
said  Rose,  interrupting. 

"  Not  this  year,  but  I  hope  she  may  next." 

"  Did  he  give  up  college  for  his  sister's  sake  ?  "  asked 
March. 

"  He  gave  up  the  last  year  of  his  law  course  ;  they  could 
not  afford  to  travel  so  many  years  for  the  benefit  of  her 
health,  so  they  came  up  here.  I  do  pity  them ;  it  must  be 
such  a  change.  But,  oh,  March !  how  you  will  enjoy  that 
house !  They  have  been  there  only  a  week,  yet  it  looks 
as  if  they  had  lived  there  always,  They  have  such  beauti 
ful  framed  photographs  of  places  they  visited  when  they 
were  in  Europe  with  their  father,  and  cases  of  books,  and 
a  grand  piano  —  I  don't  see  how  they  ever  got  it  up  the 
Mountain.  The  young  man  and  his  mother  both  play,  and 
he  plays  the  violin,  too." 

The  children  and  Chi  were  listening  open-eyed  as  Mrs. 
Blossom  went  on  enthusiastically  :  — 

"  It 's  just  like  a  fairy  story,  only  it 's  all  true.  Just 
two  weeks  ago,  when  your  father  and  I  drove  by  there, 

10 


146  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

that  long,  rambling  house  looked  so  bleak  and  bare  and 
desolate  —  your  father  and  I  always  call  it  the  '  House  of 
the  Seven  Gables,'  for  there  are  just  seven  —  and  the 
spruce  woods  behind  it  looked  fairly  black,  and  the  wind 
drew  through  the  pines  by  the  south  door  with  such  an 
eerie  sound,  that  I  shivered.  And  to-day,  what  a  change ! 
All  the  shutters  were  open,  and  muslin  curtains  at  the 
windows,  and  the  sun  was  streaming  into  the  four  windows 
of  the  great  south  room  that  they  have  made  their  living- 
room.  There  was  a  roaring  big  fire  in  the  hall  fireplace, 
and  plants  —  oh,  Rose,  you  should  see  them !  palms  and 
rubber  trees  and  sword  ferns,  —  and  lovely  rugs,  and  —  I 
can't  begin  to  tell  you  about  it ;  you  must  go  and  see  for 
yourselves."  Mrs.  Blossom  paused  for  breath,  with  a  glad 
light  in  her  eyes. 

"  It  sounds  too  good  to  be  true,"  said  Rose,  "  and  you 
look  as  if  you  had  been  to  a  real  party,  Martie." 

"Well,  I  have,  my  dear.  Just  to  see  such  people  and 
such  a  house  is  a  party  for  me." 

"  And  you  can  keep  having  it,  too,  can't  you,  Martie  ? 
because  they  're  going  to  be  neighbors,"  cried  Cherry, 
every  individual  curl  dancing  and  bobbing  with  excitement. 

"Is  the  young  man  good-looking?"  asked  Hazel, 
earnestly. 

"  Very,"  replied  Mrs.  Blossom,  smiling. 

"  As  handsome  as  Jack  ?  "  said  Hazel. 

"  Very  different  looking,  Hazel ;  quiet  and  grave,  but 
genial.  Not  so  tall  as  Mr.  Sherrill,  I  should  say;  talks 
but  little,  but  what  he  says  is  well  worth  listening  to  — 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  147 

and  when  he  smiled  !  I  did  n't  hear  him  laugh,  but  I  know 
he  can  enjoy  fun.  He  has  a  fine  saddle  horse,  Chi,  and 
he  wants  you  to  come  and  give  him  some  advice  about 
selecting  stock." 

"  'Fraid  he  's  too  high-toned  for  me,"  said  Chi,  modestly; 
"  but  if  I  can  help  him  anyway,  I  'd  like  to.  Seems  a 
likely  young  man  from  all  you  say." 

"  He  's  more  than  '  likely,'  Chi,"  returned  Mrs.  Blossom, 
with  a  twinkle  in  her  eye  that  only  Chi  caught. 

"  Speakin'  of  horses,  Mis'  Blossom,  we  've  decided  to 
send  March  to  the  Academy  at  Barton's,  'n'  if  I  let  him 
have  Fleet,  he  could  come  'n'  go,  a  matter  of  sixteen  miles 
a  day,  without  bein'  from  home  nights.  I  don't  approve 
of  that  for  boys." 

"  No,  indeed,  neither  his  father  nor  I  would  think  of 
such  a  thing  for  a  moment.  But  how  kind  of  you,  Chi,  to 
let  March  have  Fleet." 

"  I  want  to  help  on  the  college  education  all  I  can  ;  'n' 
if  our  boy  wants  to  go,  he  's  goin'  to  have  the  best  to  get 
him  there  so  far  as  I  'm  concerned." 

"I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you,  Chi,"  said  March, 
"  but  I  '11  treat  Fleet  like  a  lady  and  I  '11  study  like  a  — 
like  a  house  on  fire.  I  don't  envy  that  other  fellow  his 
saddle  horse  if  I  can  have  Fleet.  What's  his  name, 
mother?  you  haven't  told  us  yet." 

"  Why,  so  I  have  n't  —  Ford,  Alan  Ford,  and  his  sister's 
name  is  Ruth." 

"  When  can  we  go  over  and  see  them,  Martie  ? "  said 
Rose. 


148  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  I  thought  two  or  three  days  after  Thanksgiving,  and 
then  you  can  take  a  little  neighborly  thank-offering  with 
you." 

"What  can  we  take?"  queried  Cherry. 

"  Oh,  a  mince  pie  or  two,  some  raspberry  preserves,  a 
comb  of  last  summer's  honey,  a  pat  of  butter,  a  nice  bunch 
of  our  white-plume  celery,  and,  perhaps,  Chi  could  find  a 
brace  of  partridges." 

"  M-m  —  does  n't  that  sound  good-tasting ! "  said  Cherry, 
patting  her  chest  ecstatically. 

"  Who  's  coming  for  Thanksgiving,  Martie  ? "  asked 
Budd. 

"  All  the  Lost  Nation  —  the  Spillkinses  and  Aunt  Try- 
phosa  and  Maria- Ann,  Lemuel  and  his  wife  and  —  who 
else?  Guess." 

"Why,  that 'sail." 

"  Not  this  year,  you  forget  your  new  teacher,  Budd. 
She  boards  around,  and  it 's  the  Mountain's  year,  so  she 
is  at  Lemuel's  now." 

"  Oh,  good !  "  cried  Budd  enthusiastically.  "  She  's  a 
daisy.  I  know  you  '11  like  her,  Hazel.  All  the  fellows 
are  awfully  soft  on  her,  though  —  bring  her  butternut 
candy,  an'  sharpen  her  pencils,  an'  black  the  stove,  an' 
wash  off  the  black-board ;  an'  I  saw  Billy  Nye  sneak  out 
the  other  day  and  wipe  the  mud  off  her  rubbers  with  his 
paper  lunch-bag !  Catch  me  doing  it,  though,"  he  added, 
his  chest  swelling  rather  pompously  as  he  straightened 
himself  and  thrust  his  hands  deep  into  the  pockets  of  his 
knickerbockers. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  149 

"  Why  not  ? "  his  mother  asked  with  an  amused 
smile. 

"  Oh,  coz,"  was  Budd's  rather  sheepish  reply,  and  there 
upon  he  followed  Chi  out  to  the  barn,  whistling  "  Dixie  " 
with  might  and  main. 


XIV 

THE   LOST   NATION 

THE  four  families  on  Mount  Hunger  were  known  to 
the  towns  about  as  The  Lost  Nation.  Two  of  them,  the 
Blossoms  and  the  Spillkinses,  were,  in  reality,  lumber- 
dealers  rather  than  farmers.  The  third,  Lemuel  Wood, 
had  a  sheep  farm,  and  Aunt  Tiyphosa  Little  with  her 
granddaughter,  Maria-Ann,  was  the  fourth.  The  two 
women  owned  a  spruce  wood-lot  and  let  it  out  to  men  who 
cut  the  bark.  They  cultivated  a  small  garden-patch  of 
corn,  beans,  and  squash,  kept  a  cow  and  a  few  hens,  and 
eked  out  their  scanty  income  with  a  day's  work  here  and 
there  in  fine  weather. 

Every  two  weeks  they  did  the  washing  and  ironing  for 
the  Blossom  family,  as  Mrs.  Blossom's  cares  were  too 
heavy  for  her,  and  she  felt  that  not  only  could  she  afford 
it  this  year,  but  that  in  putting  it  out  she  was  giving  a 
little  help  to  her  poorer  neighbors. 

Chi  or  March  took  the  huge  basket  of  linen  over  on  the 

wagon  or  sledge,  and  always  left  with  it  a  neighborly  gift 

—  a  peck  of  fine  russets  or  greenings,  a  bunch  of  celery,  a 

pound  or  two  of  salt  pork,  a  bunch  of  delicious  parsnips, 

or  a  dozen  eggs  when  the  old  dame's  hens  were  moulting. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  151 

Aunt  Tryphosa  and  Maria-Ann  were  not  to  be  outdone 
in  neighborly  kindnesses,  and,  regularly,  the  willow  basket, 
full  to  overflowing  with  snow-white  clothes,  was  returned 
with  something  tucked  away  under  the  square  covering 
of  oil-cloth  —  a  tiny  bunch  of  sage  or  summer  savory,  an 
ironing-holder  made  of  bits  of  bright  calico  or  woollen 
rags,  a  little  paper-bag  of  spruce  gum,  a  pair  of  woollen 
wristers  for  Mr.  Blossom  or  Chi,  a  new  recipe  for  spring 
bitters  with  a  sample  of  the  herbs  —  sassafras,  dockroot, 
thoroughwort,  wintergreen,  and  dandelion  —  gathered  by 
Aunt  Tryphosa  herself. 

They  had  one  cow  which  they  regarded  as  the  third 
member  of  their  family.  She  had  been  named  Dorcas, 
after  Aunt  Tryphosa's  mother,  and  proved  a  model  animal 
of  her  kind.  She  gave  a  more  than  ordinary  amount  of 
creamy  milk;  presented  her  mistress  with  a  sturdy  calf 
each  year;  never  hooked  or  kicked;  never,  during  the 
bitter  winter  weather,  grew  restless  in  her  small  shed 
which  adjoined  the  woodshed,  and  never  broke  from  pas 
ture  in  the  sweet-smelling  summer-time. 

Aunt  Tryphosa  and  Maria-Ann  vied  with  each  other  in 
petting  her.  They  brushed  her  coat  as  regularly  as  they 
did  up  their  own  back  hair.  They  gave  her  a  weekly 
scrubbing  as  conscientiously  as  they  took  their  Saturday 
bath.  For  cold  nights  Aunt  Tryphosa  had  made  for  her 
a  nightdress  of  red  flannel  (although  she  had  never  heard 
of  "Cranford"),  which  she  and  Maria-Ann  had  planned  to 
fit  the  cow-anatomy,  and  it  had  proved  a  great  success. 

For  the  midsummer  fly-time  they  had  contrived  a  won- 


152  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

derfully  fashioned  garment  of  coarse  fish-netting,  into 
which  they  had  knotted  a  cotton  fringe.  They  claimed, 
and  rightly,  that  freedom  from  chill  and  irritation,  incident 
upon  zero  weather  and  August  dog-days,  affected  the  milk 
most  favorably,  both  in  quantity  and  quality  ;  and,  as  it 
all  went  to  make  delicious  small  cheeses,  which  sold  at 
Barton's  River  for  twenty-five  cents  apiece  and  were 
renowned  throughout  the  county,  people  had  ceased  to 
laugh  at  the  cow's  appearance. 

It  had  become  one  of  Hazel's  great  treats  to  be  permitted 
to  go  with  March  or  Chi  to  the  little  house  —  not  much 
more  than  a  cabin  —  on  the  east  side  of  the  Mountain ;  and 
when  she  knew  that  the  two  were  to  be  guests  for  Thanks 
giving,  but  not  for  Christmas,  she  began  to  lay  plans 
accordingly. 

The  Spillkinses  were  an  aged  set,  not  one  was  under 
seventy. 

There  were  the  Captain  and  his  wife,  who  had  cele 
brated  their  Golden  Wedding,  and  his  wife's  two  maiden 
sisters,  Melissa  and  Elvira,  of  whom  he  always  spoke  as 
the  "  girls."  They  were  funny  old  maidens  of  seventy  one 
and  two,  who  did  up  their  hair  in  curl-papers,  precisely  as 
they  did  a  half  a  century  ago ;  wore  black  cotton  mitts  when 
they  went  to  church,  and  white  silk  ones  when  they  went 
out  to  tea;  called  each  other  "Lissy"  and  "Elly,"  and 
were  still  sensitive  in  regard  to  their  ages. 

In  addition  to  these,  the  old,  gray-shingled,  vine-covered 
farmhouse  on  the  lower  mountain-road,  sheltered  the  Cap 
tain's  elder  brother,  Israel,  who  was  just  turned  ninety- 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  153 

three,  hale  and  hearty,  and  Israel's  eldest  son,  Reuben, 
a  youth  of  seventy,  who  in  our  North  Country  parlance 
"  was  not  all  there,"  but  harmless,  kindly,  and  generally 
helpful. 

All  these,  together  with  Lemuel  Wood  and  his  wife,  and 
the  new  teacher,  were  to  be  Thanksgiving  guests,  and  won 
derful  preparations  went  on  for  days  beforehand. 

Such  a  sorting  and  paring  and  chopping  of  apples ! 
Such  a  seeding  of  raisins,  and  whipping  of  eggs,  and 
compounding  of  cakes  !  Such  a  tucking  away  of  chickens 
beneath  the  flaky  crust  of  the  huge  pie !  Such  a  moulding 
of  cranberry  jelly,  so  deeply,  darkly,  richly  red!  Such  a 
cracking  of  butternuts,  and  a  melting  of  maple  sugar! 
Such  a  stuffing  of  an  eighteen-pound  turkey,  and  such  a 
trussing  of  thin-linked  sausages  1  Such  a  making  of  goodly 
pies,  pumpkin,  mince,  and  apple !  Such  a  quartering  of 
small  cheeses  contributed  by  Aunt  Tryphosa !  Such  an 
unbottling  of  sweet  pickles,  and  unbarrelling  of  sweet 
cider ;  —  and,  on  the  final  day,  such  a  general  boiling,  and 
baking,  and  roasting,  and  basting,  and  mashing,  and  grind 
ing,  and  seasoning,  and  whipping,  and  cutting,  and  knead 
ing,  and  rolling,  as  can  occur  only  once  a  year  in  an 
old-fashioned,  New  England  farmhouse. 

Hazel  was  in  her  glory.  Arrayed  in  a  checked  gingham 
apron,  which  she  had  made  herself,  she  beat  eggs,  whipped 
cream,  helped  Rose  set  the  table,  wiped  the  dishes  and 
baking-pans,  basted  the  noble  Thanksgiving  bird  once,  as 
a  great  privilege,  although  in  so  doing,  she  burned  her 
fingers  with  the  sputtering  fat,  scorched  her  apron,  and 


154  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

parboiled  her  already  flushed  face  with  the  escaping  steam. 
But  she  was  happy  1 

"Oh,  papa!"  she  wrote  the  day  after  the  party,  "I  never 
had  such  a  good  time  in  my  life !  If  only  you  could  see  the 
things  we  made  !  —  apple  and  lemon  tarts,  and  mince  and  cran 
berry  '  turnovers,'  and  doughnuts  all  twisted  into  a  sort  of 
French  bow-knot  such  as  Gabrielle  used  to  make  of  her  back 
hair,  and  a  queer  kind  of  cake  they  call  '  marble,'  all  streaky 
with  chocolate  and  white,  and  butternut  candy  made  with  maple 
sugar,  and  an  Indian  pudding,  and  little  bits  of  nut-cakes  with 
a  small  piece  of  currant  jelly  inside  and  all  powdered  sugar  out; 
and  —  oh,  I  can't  begin  to  tell  you,  for  this  is  only  a  part  of  the 
dessert. 

"  I  '11  try  to  paragraph  this  letter  in  the  right  places  so  you  '11 
understand  about  the  party. 

"  All  the  Lost  Nation  was  invited ;  Captain  and  Mrs.  Spill- 
kins,  Miss  Melissa  and  Miss  Elvira,  Uncle  Israel  and  Poor  Reub, 
Mr.  Lemuel  Wood  and  his  wife,  and  Aunt  Tryphosa  and  Maria- 
Ann,  and  —  Oh,  I  forgot  Miss  Alton.  She  's  awfully  sweet ; 
she  is  Budd  and  Cherry's  teacher  in  the  district  school  at  the 
Mill  Settlement.  She 's  more  like  a  city  person  than  the  others. 
I  wish  you  'd  been  here !  for  I  can't  tell  it  half  as  nice  as  it  was ; 
but  I  '11  do  my  best  because  you  wrote  you  wanted  me  to  tell 
you  everything. 

"We  were  already  for  the  party  at  eleven  o'clock  —  in  the 
morning,  I  mean  —  (I  can't  remember  the  sign  for  forenoon) . 
We  don't  have  any  lunch  up  here,  as  you  know,  but  the  dinner 
comes  between  12  and  1,  so  everything  was  ready  then.  I  got 
up  at  five  o'clock !  and  worked  hard  till  it  was  time  to  change 
my  gown. 

"  It  was  awfully  cold.  Chi  said  the  thermometer  was  shiver 
ing  when  he  looked  at  it  just  after  breakfast ;  he  means  by  that, 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  155 

it 's  below  zero  —  a  good  deal;  and  I  couldn't  hu<p  thinking 
how  cosy  and  warm  and  deliciously  smelly  it  would  be  for  the 
Lost  Nation  when  they  came  in  out  of  the  cold  into  the  long- 
room  and  saw  the  table  (it  looked  beautiful,  with  baskets  of 
red  apples,  and  nuts  and  raisins,  and  a  big  centre-piece  of 
red  geranium)  just  loaded  with  goodies. 

"  March  had  driven  over  for  Aunt  Tryphosa  and  Maria-Ann, 
and  they  arrived  first  —  Mrs.  Blossom  says  they  always  do. 
(I  want  you  to  go  over  and  call  on  them  when  you  are  up  here 
Christmas  ;  it 's  just  like  a  story  in  Hans  Andersen  ;  they  keep 
a  cow,  Dorcas,  who  wears  a  kimono  on  very  cold  nights.) 

"  March  helped  Aunt  Tryphosa  out  just  as  if  she  had  been 
Queen  Victoria.  (I  forgot  to  tell  you  she  and  Maria-Ann  do  our 
laundry  work.)  March  is  perfectly  splendid  about  such  things 
—  and  Maria- Ann  sort  of  bounced  out,  although  Chi  held  out 
his  hand  to  help  her.  It 's  so  funny  to  see  them  together ! 
Aunt  Tryphosa  is  so  small  and  wrinkled  and  thin  that,  some 
times,  Chi  says  he  has  known  a  good  wind  to  knock  her  right 
over ;  and  Maria-Ann  is  almost  as  tall  as  Chi,  and  stout  and 
rosy-cheeked,  with  nice  brown  eyes  that  talk  to  you. 

"And,  oh,  papa!  —  I'll  tell  you,  but  it's  a  confidence — I 
saw  Aunt  Tryphosa  shiver  hard  when  she  came  into  the  house, 
and  I  'm  afraid  she  did  not  have  enough  warm  things  on.  I 
know  her  shawl  was  n't  very  thick,  for  I  went  into  the  bedroom 
afterwards  and  felt  of  it ;  and  she  had  no  furs  at  all !  Think 
of  that  with  the  thermometer  way  down  below  zero,  papa ! 
I  '11  tell  you  all  about  it  when  you  come. 

"  Well,  after  Mrs.  Blossom  had  given  the  old  lady  a  cup  of 
hot  tea,  she  felt  better  and  began  to  talk ;  and,  honestly,  papa, 
she  never  stopped  talking  all  day  long !  March  said  he  timed 
her.  She  lives  away  over  on  the  east  side  of  the  Mountain 
away  from  everybody,  and  yet  she  knows  everything  that  is 
going  on,  on  the  Mountain,  and  at  the  Mill  Settlement,  and  at 
Barton's  River,  and  that,  as  you  know,  is  quite  a  large  place. 


156  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  She  told  us  all  about  the  new  neighbors  in  the  seven-gabled- 
house  ;  how  they  had  their  dinner  at  bed-time,  and  what  '  help  ' 
they  have,  and  whom  they  are  goiug  to  have  for  hired  man,  and 
how  they  have  music  every  night  after  dinner,  and  how  the 
lights  were  n't  put  out  in  the  north-east  chamber  till  one  o'clock. 
She  even  knew  the  pattern  of  lace  on  the  underclothes  that 
were  hung  out  to  dry !  and  Maria- Ann  was  trying  to  crochet 
some  in  imitation  ;  I  saw  it  myself. 

"  And  she  said  that  one  of  the  chambers  was  all  lined  with 
books,  and  another  just  covered,  floor  and  walls,  with  pictures 
—  what  can  she  mean,  papa?  and  that  down  stairs  off  the 
living-room  in  what  used  to  be  old  Mrs.  Morris's  milk-room, 
there  were  ropes,  and  weights,  and  pulleys,  and  a  stretcher, 
and  iron  balls,  and  that  every  one  said  it  did  n't  have  the  right 
look.  But  she  said  she  meant  to  stand  up  for  them,  because 
the  young  man  had  come  over  to  call  just  two  or  three  days 
ago  and  said,  as  she  was  his  nearest  neighbor,  they  ought  to 
become  acquainted  before  winter  set  in ;  and  he  ordered  a  half 
a  dozen  cheeses  and  brought  word  from  his  mother  that  she 
would  like  them  to  come  over  and  see  her  daughter,  for  she 
thought  Maria-Ann  might  be  able  to  do  something  for  her. 
Now,  what  do  you  suppose  it  all  means? 

"  Of  course,  it  makes  us  all  wild  to  go  over  there,  and  I  hope 
we  shall  go  soon. 

' '  But,  oh !  if  you  could  see  the  Spillkinses !  I  had  to  go  off 
up  stairs  and  bury  my  face  in  Rose's  feather  bed  so  I  could 
laugh  without  being  heard.  They  're  the  funniest  lot  of  people 
I  ever  saw.  They  all  came  over  in  a  big  wagon  filled  with 
straw,  and  before  they  came  in  sight,  Chi  said,  '  They  're 
coming,  I  know  by  the  cackle ; '  and,  papa,  that  is  just  what 
it  was. 

"They  are  all  awfully  aged,  but  they  act  just  like  young 
people,  and  Mrs.  Blossom  says  it's  their  young  hearts  that 
keep  them  so  young. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  157 

"Uncle  Israel,  lie's  ninety-three,  but  he  wears  a  dark  brown 
wig  and  looks  younger  than  his  son,  Poor  Reub,  who  is  seventy 
and  has  snow-white  hair.  Mrs.  Spillkins  wears  what  they  call 
up  here  a  '  false  front ; '  it 's  just  the  color  of  Uncle  Israel's, 
so  she  looks  more  like  his  sister.  But  her  two  sisters,  Miss 
Melissa  and  Miss  Elvira,  are  perfectly  comical.  They're  just 
as  small  as  Aunt  Tryphosa,  but  they  don't  talk ;  only  nod  and 
smile  and  bow  as  if  they  were  talking.  They  have  little  cork 
screw  curls,  three  on  each  temple,  and  they  bob  and  shake 
when  they  nod  and  smile  and  sort  of  chirrup ;  it 's  the  Captain 
and  his  wife  and  Uncle  Israel  who  cackle  so  when  they  laugh. 
Poor  Reuben  does  n't  say  much  either,  only  he  looks  perfectly 
happy,  and  always  sits  by  his  father  when  he  can  get  a  chance. 
Chi  was  just  lovely  to  him  all  the  afternoon. 

"Well,  after  Mr.  Wood  and  his  wife  and  the  new  teacher 
came,  we  all  sat  down  to  dinner,  and  Mr.  Blossom  said  'grace,' 
and  all  the  Spillkinses  said  '  Amen,'  which  surprised  us  all 
very  much. 

"  We  don't  have  courses  up  here,  because  there  is  nobodj7  to 
serve  us  ;  so  everything  is  put  on  your  plate  at  once,  except, 
of  course,  dessert,  and  papa !  —  I  would  n't  say  it  to  any  one 
but  you,  but  I  never  saw  any  one  eat  so  much  as  Aunt  Try 
phosa  for  all  she  is  so  small  and  thin.  Mr.  Blossom  piled  her 
plate  up  twice  with  turkey,  and  squash,  and  onion,  and  potato, 
and  turnip,  and  then  she  helped  herself  to  cranberry  jelly  and 
sweet  pickles  three  times  ;  and  yet  she  managed  to  talk  all  the 
time ;  and  the  queer  part  of  it  was  that  she  did  n't  cut  herself 
once,  they  all  eat  with  their  knives  —  except,  of  course,  our 
family  and  Miss  Alton. 

"  Rose  and  Cherry  and  I  removed  the  dinner  plates,  and  that 
was  all  the  waiting  there  was. 

"  We  sat  till  half-past  three  at  the  table  ;  then  Uncle  Israel 
said  another  '  grace  '  —  '  after-grace,'  he  called  it,  —  arid  Mr. 
Blossom  and  Chi  took  the  —  the  gentlemen  part  out  to  see  the 


158  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

horses  and  cows,  and  all  the  rest  went  to  work  to  clear  off 
the  table  and  do  up  the  dishes.  There  were  so  many  of  us  it 
did  n't  take  long,  and  then  we  lighted  the  lamps,  and  all  the  — 
the  ladies  took  out  their  knitting  and  began  to  work  as  fast  as 
they  could. 

"Then  in  a  little  while  all  the  —  the  gentlemen  came  in,  and 
the  ladies  put  up  their  work,  and  they  all  sat  round  the  room 
and  sang  Auld  Lang  Syne.  Rose  led,  and  Miss  Alton  sang  a 
lovely  alto.  It  was  lovely,  and  I  longed  to  have  you  with  me. 
Then  Captain  Spillkins  said  it  was  time  to  hitch  up,  and  Chi 
said  it  was  time  to  be  going  as  it  was  very  dark  and  cold.  lie 
drove  Aunt  Tryphosa  and  Maria-Ann  home,  and  Mrs.  Blossom 
filled  a  large  basket  with  all  sorts  of  goodies,  and  Mr.  Blossom 
set  it  in  behind  in  the  apple-green  cart  without  their  knowing 
it;  so  now  they  can  have  a  surprise  party  of  their  own  and 
Thanksgiving  for  a  whole  week. 

"There!  This  is  the  longest  letter  I  overwrote  in  all  my 
life.  I  've  written  it  at  different  times  during  the  day.  I  ate 
so  much  yesterday,  that  I  don't  feel  very  bright  to-day,  so  you 
must  excuse  any  mistakes,  although  I  've  used  the  dictionery  as 
you  wanted  me  to. 

"  Always  your  loving,  and  now  your  dreadfully  sleepy 

"  DAUGHTER  HAZEL. 

"  P.  S.  I  think  I  shall  feel  better,  if  I  tell  you  that  we  all  had 
a  very  unhappy  time  two  weeks  ago.  I  had  a  really  dreadful 
heartache,  papa,  and,  for  the  first  time,  was  homesick  for  you. 

"  You  see,  March  and  Rose  are  very  proud  of  spirit,  and  I 
don't  think  they  liked  it  in  me  because  we  are  rich  —  but  you 
and  I  understand  each  other,  don't  we?  and  know  that  being 
rich  does  n't  mean  anything  to  us,  does  it?  and  then,  too,  Chi 
says  we  're  poor  because  we  have  n't  so  much  family  to  love  as 
the  Blossoms  have,  and  that's  true,  too,  is  n't  it?  — and  I  think 
that  kind  of  poorness  ought  to  balance  our  riches,  don't  you? 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  159 

And  —  well,  I  can't  explain  how  it  all  came  about,  but  now 
they  are  willing  to  let  me  give  them  things  when  I  want  to, 
and  that  makes  me  very  happy,  and  we  are  all  a  great  deal 
happier  than  we  were  before,  and  I  'm  going  to  call  Mrs. 
Blossom,  '  Mother  Blossom,'  after  this,  she  says  she  wants  me 
to,  and  she  takes  me  in  her  arms  just  as  she  does  Rose  and 
Cherry,  and  we  talk  things  over  together ;  so  everything  is  all 
right  now. 

"'Please  send  up  my  violin  by  express  when  you  receive  this. 
There  is  a  very  good-looking  young  man,  the  new  neighbor  at 
the  seven-gabled-house,  and  he  plays  the  violin,  too,  and  his 
mother  the  piano.  Love  to  Wilkins  and  Minna-Lu.  I  '11  send 
him  a  present  from  here  —  Oh,  I  forgot !  don't  forget  to  write 
Chi  within  a  week  sure,  to  inform  you  about  the  Wishing-Tree, 
and  don't  buy  any  presents  for  anybody  till  you  hear  from 
him.  H.  C." 

When  Mr.  Clyde  read  this  long  letter  at  the  breakfast 
table,  his  face  was  the  despair  of  Wilkins,  who  hovered 
about,  seeking,  ineffectually,  for  an  excuse  to  ask  about 
Miss  Hazel. 

"  Doan  know  what  kin'  er  news  Marse  John  get  from 
little  Missy,"  he  told  Minna-Lu,  the  cook ;  "  but  he  laffed 
pow'ful  part  de  time,  an'  den  he  grow  pow'ful  sober,  an' 
de  fust  ting  I  know,  de  tears  come  splashin'  onto  de  paper, 
an'  he  speak  up  rale  sharp,  '  Wha'  f o'  yo'  hyar,  Wilkins  ? ' 
an'  sayin'  nuffin',  I  jes'  makes  tracks,  case  I  see  he  wan's 
nobuddy  see  dem  tears.  —  Fo'  Gawd,  I  'se  be  glad  when 
little  Missy  come  home." 

Mr.  Clyde  took  this  manuscript,  as  he  called  it,  over  to 
the  Doctor. 


160  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  There,  Dick,  read  that,"  was  all  he  said. 

After  the  Doctor  had  read  it,  he  whisked  out  his  hand 
kerchief  in  a  remarkably  suspicious  manner,  and  Mr.  Clyde 
busied  himself  with  a  medical  journal  without  reading  one 
word,  till  the  Doctor  spoke  : 

"  I  say,  Johnny,  let 's  get  up  a  theatre  party  of  us  two 
for  the  Old  Homestead  to-night;  it's  the  nearest  thing 
we  can  get  to  this  of  Hazel's." 

"  You  always  hit  the  right  thing,  Dick,  I  '11  call  for  you 
at  eight." 


XV 

WISHINQ-TREE    SECRETS 

ALL-HALLOW-E'EN  had  come. 

The  exercises  about  the  tree  had  been  carried  out  with 
great  success  —  tom-toms,  war-whoop,  song  and  dance. 
After  supper,  the  apples  had  been  roasted,  and  the  whole 
family  "  bobbed  "  for  them  in  the  wash-tub ;  father,  mother, 
Chi,  and  even  little  May  joining  heartily  in  the  fun.  Then 
they  had  melted  lead,  sailed  nutshells  freighted  with  wishes, 
and  finally  "  loved  their  Loves  "  with  all  the  letters  of  the 
alphabet. 

When  all  were  off  to  bed  and  sound  asleep,  Chi  took  his 
lantern,  and  went  up  again  to  the  old  butternut  tree  in 
the  corner  of  the  pasture. 

It  was  preparing  to  snow.  A  chill  wind  drew  through 
the  bare  branches,  and  caused  a  wild  commotion  among 
the  roosters'  tail  feathers  that  dangled  from  one  of  the 
lower  ones. 

Chi  unlocked  the  little  door,  and  from  the  hollow  took 
out  a  handful  of  notes.  He  thrust  them  into  the  side 
pocket  of  his  coat,  relocked  the  door,  and  went  back  to 
his  room  over  the  shed.  There,  by  the  light  of  the  lan 
tern,  he  read  them  and  rejoiced  over  them ;  re-read  them 
and  cried  a  little  over  them,  nor  was  he  ashamed  of  his 

11 


162  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

tears  ;  for  in  the  precious  missives,  Rose  and  Hazel,  March 
and  Budd  and  Cherry,  had  shown,  as  in  a  mirror,  the  work 
ings  of  their  loving  hearts. 

All-hallo  w-e'en. 

MY  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  have  a  great  favor  to  ask  of  you  and 
father.  Will  you  hang  up  your  stockings  this  year  and  let  us 
children  fill  them  instead  of  your  filling  ours?  I  don't  want 
you  to  take  one  cent  of  the  money  you  are  earning  by  having 
Hazel  here  to  buy  me  anything.  I  want  every  penny  of  it  to 
go  to  pay  off  that  mortgage  you  told  us  of  —  for  I  feel  just  as 
you  do  about  it,  and  only  wish  I  had  known  it  last  Hallow-e'en 
when  I  asked  for  the  paints  and  brushes.  It  makes  me  sick 
just  to  think  of  all  we  asked  for,  and  you  not  having  any  money 
to  buy  them  with  —  and  never  telling  us  !  Oh,  mother ! 
Your  devoted  son, 

MARCH  BLOSSOM. 

All-hallow-e'en. 

MY  DEAR  POPSEY,  —  Me  and  Cherry  want  to  help  you  and 
Martie  pay  off  that  morgige  she  told  us  about.  March  says 
it  is  a  dreadfull  thing  that  we  must  get  rid  of  just  as  soon  as 
we  can.  So  Cherry  and  me  are  going  to  give  you  2  dollars 
apeace  out  of  our  $3  we  saved  for  ourselves  out  of  the  jam  and 
the  chickens  as  we  voted  in  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  That  will  make 
four  dollars  and  March  says  it  will  be  just  ^-^  of  what  you 
owe  and  will  help  a  great  deal.  I  think  the  other  $1  we  have 
left  will  be  enough  to  buy  presents  for  the  rest  of  the  famly, 

don't  you  ? 

Your  Son, 

BUDD  BLOSSOM. 

P.  S.  I  meant  to  say  I  don't  expect  anything  this  year  'cause 
last  year  I  asked  for  a  double-runner  and  a  bat  and  a  new  cap 
with  fir  on  the  edges  like  the  boys  at  Barton's  and  20  cents  to 
buy  marbles  with  and  I  didn't  get  them  'cause  you  were  sick 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  163 

and  I  'm  sorry  I  asked  for  so  much  to  bother  you  when  you 
were  sick.  B.  B. 

DEAR  FRIEND  CHI,  —  Do  you  think  you  can  find  out  in  some 
way  what  March  and  Budd  would  like  for  Christmas  ?  And  if 
you  kuow  anything  special  that  Rose  wants  very  specially, 
please  let  me  kuow  at  your  earliest  convenience  so  I  can  send 
to  New  York  for  it.  I  should  like  to  consult  you  about  some 
gifts  for  Aunt  Tryphosa  and  Maria- Ann,  and  if  vou  could  get 
a  chance  to  take  me  down  to  the  Barton's  River  shops  all  alone 
by  myself,  I  should  esteem  it  a  great  favor. 
Your  true  friend, 

HAZEL  CLYDE. 

All-hallow-e'en. 

P.  S.  I  'm  rather  anxious  about  the  note  I  put  in  the  Wish- 
ing-Tree  for  papa. 

All-hallow-e'en. 

DARLING  PATER  NOSTER,  —  When  I  think  of  last  year,  my 
heart  aches  for  you  and  my  precious  Martie.  Oh,  why  did  n't 
she  tell  us  before !  I  never  should  have  asked  for  that  dress 
and  the  French  grammar  and  dictionary  and  the  cheap  set  of 
Dickens',  if  I  had  only  known. 

Do,  Pater  dear,  let  us  know  in  the  future  if  you  are  in 
trouble,  and  let  us  help  share  it.  Would  n't  that  make  it  easier 
for  you? 

Now  a  favor ;  I  want  you  and  Martie  to  play  boy  and  girl 
again  this  year  and  hang  up  your  stockings  for  a  change ;  and 
please,  please,  father  dear,  don't  give  us  anything  this  year  — 
we  don't  want  anything  but  you  and  Martie,  and  besides,  we 
have  money  of  our  own  !  Chi  calls  us  "  bloated  bond-holders," 
and  says  we  have  formed  a  "  combine." 

Your  loving  daughter, 

ROSE  BLOSSOM. 


164  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

DEAREST  COUSIN  JACK,  —  I  have  n't  answered  your  letter 
because  I  Ve  been  having  too  good  a  time.  This  is  only  a 
Wishing-Tree  note  ;  I  want  you  to  do  me  a  favor,  please ;  find 
out  what  I  can  buy  nice  for  papa  with  a  dollar.  I  've  earned 
it  myself  (and  a  great  deal  more,  Jack,  you  would  be  surprised 
if  you  knew  how  much  the  preserves  and  chickens  came  to) 
and  want  him  to  have  a  present  out  of  it.  Then,  I  would  like 
to  buy  something  for  Doctor  Heath,  about  fifty  cents'  worth, 
and  another  fifty  cents'  worth  for  Mrs.  Heath.  I  want  to  give 
Aunt  Carrie  a  little  something,  too,  out  of  my  own  earnings ; 
(I've  all  my  two  quarterly  allowances  besides,)  I  can  afford 
fifty  cents  for  her ;  and  then  I  would  like  to  remember  Wilkins 
with  a  little  gift  out  of  my  earnings  for  mamma's  sake  as  well 
as  my  own,  and  then  I  shall  have  twenty-five  cents  left  of  the 
money  I  worked  for.  The  rest  we  all  voted  to  put  aside  for 
March  to  help  him  through  college.  He  wants  to  be  an  arci- 
tect,  you  know,  and  he  draws  beautifully.  I  shall  be  glad  of 
your  advice. 

In  haste,  yours  devotedly, 

HAZEL. 

All-hallow-e'en,  MOUNT  HUNGER. 

DEAR  CHI,  —  May  wants  a  doll  the  kind  she  saw  last  summer 
down  at  Barton's  River.  I  ve  got  only  a  doller  to  spend  for 
all  the  famly,  so  will  you  plese  ask  the  pris  for  me  as  I  am 
afrade  it  will  be  to  high.  There  is  a  big  freuchone  in  the  right 
hand  window  at  Smith's  store  with  a  libel  on  it  76,  and  I  play 
it 's  mine  when  I  am  down  there  and  you  are  buying  horse- 
feed.  I  have  named  her  Emilie  Angelique.  Rose  spelt  it  for 
me. 

Your  loving  CHERRY  BOUNCE. 

DEAR  OLD  CHI,  —  If  you  can  find  out  what  Hazel  would 
like  specially  for  Christmas,  just  let  me  know. 

MARCH. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  165 

DEAR  CHI,  —  Can  you  manage  to  get  us  all  down  to  Barton's 
some  Saturday  to  do  some  Christmas  shopping? 

Your  ROSE-POSE. 

All-hallow-e'en. 

DEAREST  PAPA,  —  Will  yon  please  ask  Aunt  Carrie  to  please 
help  you  buy  these  Christmas  things  ?  I  enclose  fifty  dollars  ; 
(your  check.) 

A  white  serge  dress  pattern,  like  mine. 

A  book  of  lovely  foreign  photographs  of  buildings  and  pic 
tures  for  March. 

2  pairs  of  white  kid  gloves,  number  6. 

2  pairs  of  tan  kid  gloves,  number  6£. 

1  pair  fur-lined  gloves  for  March. 

1  pair  ditto  for  Mr.  Blossom. 

A  year's  subscription  for  the  Woman's  Hearthstone  Journal 
for  Maria- Ann. 

A  small  shirt  waist  ironing-board  for  Aunt  Tryphosa. 

1  pair  brown  woolen  gloves  and  one  pair  of  those  fleece-lined 
beaver  gauntlet  driving  gloves  like  those  of  yours,  for  Chi. 

1  blue  Kardigan  jacket  for  Chi. 

The  other  things  I  think  I  can  get  at  Barton's  River. 
Your  devoted  daughter, 

HAZEL  CLYDE. 

"  Well,"  said  Chi,  thoughtfully,  as  he  finished  reading 
them  a  second  time,  "  I  've  got  more  than  one  string  to 
my  bow  this  year.  Beats  all,  how  Chris'mus  limbers  up 
a  man's  feelin's  !  Guess  't  was  meant  for  all  of  us  children 
of  a  lovin'  Father."  So  saying,  Chi  knelt  beside  his  bed, 
and,  dropping  his  face  in  his  hands,  remained  there  motion 
less  for  a  few  minutes,  while  his  loving,  gentle,  manly 
"  soul  was  on  its  knees." 


XVI 

A   CHRISTMAS   PRELUDE 

"  IT  's  goin'  to  be  an  awful  cold  night,  grandmarm, " 
said  Maria-Ann  as  she  stepped  to  the  door  just  after  sunset 
on  Christmas  eve.  The  old  dame  followed  her  and  looked 
out  over  her  shoulder. 

"  I  know  't  is  ;  my  fingers  stuck  to  the  latch  when  I  went 
out  to  see  after  Dorcas.  While  your  gettin'  supper,  I  'm 
goin'  to  bundle  up  the  rooster  and  the  hens,  or  they  '11 
freeze  their  combs,  sure 's  your  name 's  Maria-Ann ;  looks 
kinder  Chris'musy,  don't  it  ?  " 

"  I  was  just  thinkin'  of  that,  grandmarm  ;  just  look  at 
that  star  in  the  east !"  She  pointed  to  a  shoulder  of  the 
Mountain,  where  a  serene  planet  was  ascending  the  dark 
blue  heavens.  "  An'  there 's  been  just  enough  snow  to 
make  all  the  spruces  look  like  the  Sunday  School  tree,  all 
roped  over  with  pop-corn.  Do  you  remember  that  last  one, 
grandmarm  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  never  forgot  it,  Maria-Ann ;  that 's  ten  year  ago, 
an'  I  sha'n't  never  see  another  ?  "  She  shivered,  and  drew 
back  out  of  the  keen  air. 

"Nor  I,"  said  Maria-Ann,  shutting  the  door. 

"  I  don't  know  why  not,"  snapped  Aunt  Tryphosa,  who 
always  contradicted  Maria-Ann  when  she  could.  "  I  guess 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  167 

we  can  have  a  Chris'mus  tree  same 's  other  folks ;  we  've  got 
trees  enough." 

"  That 's  so,"  replied  Maria-Ann,  laughing.  "  Let 's  have 
one  to-morrow,  grandmarm.  I  don't  see  why  we  can't 
have  a  tree  just  as  well  as  we  can  have  wreaths  —  see  what 
beauties  I  've  made  !  I  've  saved  the  four  handsomest  for 
Mis'  Blossom  an'  Mis'  Ford." 

"  You  do  beat  all,  Maria- Ann,  making  wreaths  with  them 
greens  and  bitter-sweet ;  I  wish  you  'd  hang  'em  up  to 
night;  'twould  make  the  room  seem  kinder  Chris'musy." 

"To  be  sure  I  will."  And  Maria-Ann  bustled  about, 
hanging  the  beautiful  rounds  of  green  and  red  in  each  of  the 
kitchen  windows,  on  the  panes  of  which  the  frost  was 
already  sparkling ;  then,  throwing  her  shawl  over  her  head, 
she  stepped  out  into  the  night  and  hung  one  on  the  outside 
of  the  narrow,  weather-blackened  door.  Again  within,  she 
set  the  small,  square  kitchen  table  with  two  plates,  two 
cups  and  saucers  of  brown  and  white  crockery,  the  pewter 
spoons  and  horn-handled  knives  and  forks  that  her  grand 
mother  had  had  when  she  was  first  married.  Finally,  she 
put  on  one  of  the  pots  of  red  geranium  in  the  centre  and 
stood  back  to  admire  the  effect. 

"  Guess  we  '11  have  a  treat  to-night,  seein'  it 's  night 
before  Chris'mus  —  fried  apples  an'  pork,  an'  some  toast ; 
an'  I  '11  cut  a  cheese  to-night,  I  declare  I  will,  even  if 
grandmarm  does  scold  ;  she  '11  eat  it  fast  enough  if  I  don't 
say  nothin'  about  it  beforehand." 

Maria-Ann  had  formed  the  habit  of  thinking  aloud,  for 
she  had  been  much  alone,  and,  as  she  said,  "  she  was  a  good 
deal  of  company  for  herself." 


168  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Oh,  hum  ! "  she  sighed,  as  she  cut  the  pork  and  sliced 
the  apples,  "  a  cup  of  tea  would  be  about  the  right  thing  this 
cold  night,  but  there  ain't  a  mite  in  the  house."  Then  she 
laughed :  "  What  you  talkin'  'bout  luxuries  for,  Maria-Ann 
Simmons?  You  be  thankful  you've  got  a  livin'.  I  can 
make  some  good  cambric-tea,  and  put  a  little  spearmint  in 
it ;  that  '11  be  warmin'  as  anything."  She  began  to  sing  in 
a  shrill  soprano  as  she  busied  herself  with  the  preparations 
for  the  supper,  while  the  kettle  sang,  too,  and  the  pork 
sizzled  in  the  spider: 

" '  Must  I  be  carried  to  the  skies 

On  flowery  beds  of  ease, 
While  others  fought  to  win  the  prize 
And  sailed  through  bloody  seas  ? '  " 

Meanwhile,  Aunt  Tryphosa,  with  her  lantern  in  one  hand 
and  a  bundle  of  red  something  in  the  other,  had  repaired  to 
the  hen-house  which  was  partitioned  off  from  the  woodshed. 

Had  either  one  of  them  happened  to  look  out  down  the 
Mountain-road  just  at  this  time,  they  would  have  seen  a 
strange  sight. 

Along  the  white  roadway,  sparkling  in  the  light  of  the 
rising  moon,  came  six  silent  forms  in  Indian  file.  Two 
were  harnessed  to  small  loaded  sledges.  Sometimes,  all 
six  gesticulated  wildly;  at  others,  the  two  who  brought 
up  the  rear  of  the  file  silently  danced  and  capered  back 
and  forth  across  the  narrow  way.  They  drew  near  the 
house  on  the  woodshed  side  ;  the  first  two  freed  themselves 
from  the  sledges,  and  left  them  under  one  of  the  unlighted 
windows.  Then  all  six,  attracted  by  the  glimmer  of  the 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  169 

lantern  shining  from  the  one  small  aperture  of  the  hen 
house,  stole  up  noiselessly  and  looked  in. 

What  they  saw  proved  too  much  for  their  risibles,  and 
suppressed  giggles  and  snickers  and  choking  laughter 
nearly  betrayed  their  presence  to  the  old  dame  within. 

On  the  low  roost  sat  Aunt  Tryphosa's  noble  Plymouth 
Rock  rooster,  and  beside  him,  in  an  orderly  row,  her  ten 
hens.  Every  hen  had  on  her  head  a  tiny  flannel  hood  — 
some  were  red,  some  were  white  —  the  strings  knotted 
firmly  under  their  bills  by  Aunt  Tryphosa's  old  fingers 
trembling  with  the  cold. 

She  was  just  blanketing  the  rooster,  who  submitted  with 
a  meekness  which  proved  undeniably  that  he  was  under 
petticoat  government,  for  all  the  airs  he  gave  himself  with 
his  wives.  The  funny,  little,  hooded  heads  twisting  and 
turning,  the  "  aks  "  and  "  oks  "  which  accompanied  Aunt 
Tryphosa  in  her  labor  of  love,  the  wild  stretching  and 
flapping  of  wings,  all  furnished  a  scene  never  to  be  for 
gotten  by  the  six  pairs  of  laughing  eyes  that  beheld  it. 

The  moment  the  old  dame  took  up  her  lantern,  the 
spectators  sped  around  the  corner.  Under  the  dark  win 
dows  they  noiselessly  unloaded  the  wood-sleds,  and  silently 
carried  bundles,  baskets,  and  burlap-bags  around  to  the 
front  door. 

At  last  they  had  fairly  barricaded  it,  and  the  tallest  of 
the  party,  after  fastening  a  piece  of  paper  in  the  Christmas 
wreath  that  Maria-Ann  had  hung  up  only  a  half-hour 
before,  motioned  to  the  others  to  step  up  to  the  kitchen 
window. 


170  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Just  one  glimpse  they  had  through  the  thickening  frost 
and  the  wreathing  green :  a  glimpse  of  the  kitchen  table, 
the  steaming  apples,  the  pot  of  red  geranium,  the  two  cups 
of  smoking  spearmint  tea,  and  of  two  heads  —  the  one 
white,  the  other  brown  —  bent  low  over  folded,  toil-worn 
hands  in  the  reverent  attitude  for  the  evening  "grace." 

"  For  what  we  are  now  about  to  receive,  may  the  Lord 
make  us  truly  thankful,"  said  Aunt  Tryphosa,  in  a 
quavering  voice. 

"  Amen,"  said  Maria-Ann,  heartily  —  "  Land  sakes, 
grandmarm  !  how  you  scairt  me,  looking  up  so  sudden  ! " 
she  exclaimed,  almost  in  the  same  breath. 

"  Thought  I  heerd  somethin',"  said  the  old  dame,  holding 
her  head  in  a  listening  attitude  —  "  Hark  !  " 

"  I  don't  hear  nothin',  grandmarm.  Now,  just  eat  your 
apples  while  they  're  hot.  What  did  you  think  you  heard  ?  " 
she  continued,  dishing  the  apples. 

"  I  thought  I  heerd  it  when  I  was  out  in  the  shed,  too." 

"  I  should  n't  wonder  if  't  was  a  deer.  I  saw  one  come 
into  the  clearing  this  afternoon,  an'  seein'  't  was  Christmas 
evening,  I  put  a  good  bundle  of  hay  out  to  the  south  door 
of  the  cow-shed." 

"  Guess  't  was  that,  then,"  said  Aunt  Tryphosa.  "  You 
clear  up,  Maria-Ann,  an'  I  '11  keep  up  a  good  fire,  for  I 
want  to  finish  off  them  stockings  for  Ben  Blossom  an'  Chi. 
I  s'pose  you  've  got  your  things  ready  in  case  we  see  a 
team  go  by  to-morrow?" 

"  Yes,  they  're  all  ready,"  said  her  granddaughter,  rather 
absently,  and  set  about  washing  the  few  dishes. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  171 

When  all  was  done,  neatly  and  quickly  as  Maria-Ann  so 
well  knew  how,  she  flung  on  her  shawl,  saying : 

"  I  'm  goin'  out  a  minute  to  see  if  the  bundle  of  hay  is 
gone,  and  besides,  I  want  to  look  at  the  moon  on  the  snow ; 
it 's  the  first  time  I  've  seen  it  so  this  year."  She  opened 
the  door  — 

"  Oh,  Luddy !  "  she  screamed,  as  bundle,  and  basket,  and 
bag  toppled  over  into  the  room. 

"  Land  sakes  alive  !  "  quavered  Aunt  Tryphosa,  hurrying 
to  the  rescue.  "  Did  n't  I  tell  you  I  heerd  somethin'  ? 
What  be  they?" 

"Presents!"  cried  Maria-Ann,  pulling,  and  hauling, 
and  gathering  up,  and  finally  getting  the  door  shut. 

"  Seems  to  me  I  see  somethin'  white  catched  onto  the 
door  'fore  you  shut  it,"  said  Aunt  Tryphosa.  "  Better 
look  an'  see."  Again  her  granddaughter  opened  the  door, 
and  found  the  strip  of  paper  on  which  was  written ; 

"  Merry  Christmas  !  with  best  wishes  of 
Benjamin  and  Mary  Blossom  and  May, 
Malachi  Graham  and  Rose  Eleanor  Blossom, 
March  Blossom  and  Hazel  Clyde, 

Benjamin  Budd  Blossom  and  Cherry  Elizabeth  Blossom  of 
the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.,  and  of 
John  Curtis  Clyde  of  New  York ;  U.  S.  A. ;  N.  A. ;  W.  H." 

"  Oh,  grandmarm  !  It 's  just  like  a  romantic  novel !  " 
cried  Maria- Ann,  who  was  as  full  of  sentiment  as  an  egg 
is  full  of  yolk.  "  It  makes  me  feel  kinder  queer,  comiii' 
just  now  right  after  we  was  talkiri'  'bout  our  tree.  You 
open  first,  an'  then  we  '11  take  turns."  Aunt  Tryphosa, 


172  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

who  was  winking  very  hard  behind  her  spectacles,  was  not 
loath  to  begin. 

"  Let 's  haul  'em  up  to  the  stove ;  it 's  so  awful  cold," 
she  said,  shivering. 

"  Why,  you  've  let  the  fire  go  down ;  that 's  the  reason. 
Don't  you  remember  you  was  goin'  to  put  on  the  wood  just 
as  the  things  fell  in  ?  " 

"  So  I  was,"  said  her  grandmother,  making  good  her 
forgetfulness ;  in  a  few  minutes  there  was  a  roaring  fire, 
and  the  room  was  filled  with  a  genial  warmth.  Then  they 
sat  down  to  their  delightful  task,  Maria-Ann  kneeling  on 
the  square  of  rag  carpet  before  the  stove. 

"  My  land ! "  cried  Aunt  Tryphosa,  clapping  her  hands 
together  as  she  opened  the  largest  burlap  bag ;  "if  that 
boy  ain't  stuffed  this  two-bushel  bag  chock  full  of  birch 
bark!  Look  a-here,  Maria- Ann,  you  read  this  slip  of 
paper  for  me ;  my  specs  get  so  dim  come  night-time." 

The  truth  was,  the  tears  were  running  down  Aunt 
Tryphosa's  wrinkled  cheeks  and  filming  her  eyes  to  such 
an  extent  that  she  saw  the  birch  bark  through  all  the 
colors  of  the  rainbow. 

"  '  For  Aunt  Tryphosa  from  Budd  Blossom  to  make 
her  fires  quick  with  cold  mornings.'  Did  you  ever  ? " 
said  Maria-Ann,  untying  another  large  burlap  bundle  — 
"  What 's  this  ?  '  Made  by  Rose  Blossom  and  Hazel  Clyde 
to  keep  Aunt  Tryphosa  snug  and  warm  o'  nights  when  the 
mercury  is  below  zero.'  O  grandmarm,  look  at  this  ! " 

Maria- Ann  unrolled  a  coverlet  made  of  silk  patch-work 
(bright  bits  and  pieces  that  Hazel  had  begged  of  Aunt 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  173 

Carrie   and   Mrs.    Heath   and   others    of    her   New   York 
friends)  lined  with  thin  flannel  and  filled  with  feathers. 

But  Aunt  Tryphosa  was  speechless  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life ;  and,  seeing  this,  Maria-Ann  took  advantage  of  it 
to  do  a  little  talking  on  her  own  account. 

"  She  don't  seem  like  a  city  girl  in  her  ways ;  she  ain't 
a  bit  stuck  up  —  Oh,  what 's  this  !  "  She  poked,  and  fin 
gered,  and  pinched,  but  failed  to  guess.  Aunt  Tryphosa 
grew  impatient. 

"  Let  me  see,  you  've  done  nothin'  but  feel,"  she  said, 
reaching  for  the  package,  and  Maria-Ann  handed  it  over 
to  her. 

Again  Mrs.  Tryphosa  Little  was  nearly  dumb,  as  the 
miscellaneous  contents  of  the  queer,  knobby  parcel  were 
brought  to  light. 

"  These  are  for  you,  Maria- Ann,"  she  said  in  an  awed 
voice,  laying  them  on  the  kitchen  table  one  after  the  other: 
—  A  copy  of  the  Woman's  Hearthstone  Journal,  with  the  re 
ceipt  for  a  year's  subscription  pinned  to  it ;  —  A  small  shirt 
waist  ironing-board  ;  —  A  pair  of  fleece-lined  Arctics  that 
buttoned  half-way  up  Maria-Ann's  sturdy  legs  when,  an 
hour  later,  she  tried  them  on  ;  —  Six  paper-covered  novels 
of  the  Chimney  Corner  Library  including  Lorna  Doone 
(Hazel  had  discovered  in  her  frequent  visits,  that  Aunt 
Tryphosa's  granddaughter  at  twenty-nine  was  as  romantic 
as  a  girl  of  seventeen)  ;  —  A  box  of  preserved  ginger ;  — 
Two  pounds  of  Old  Hyson  Tea;  —  (upon  which  Maria-Ann 
bounced  up  from  the  floor,  and  without  more  ado  made 
two  cups,  much  to  her  grandmother's  amazement)  ;  —  Six 


174  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

pounds  of  lump  sugar  ;  —  A  dozen  lemons  ;  —  A  dozen 
oranges ;  —  A  white  Liberty-silk  scarf  tucked  into  an 
envelope  ;  —  Six  ounces  of  scarlet  knitting-wool ;  —  All 
for  "  Miss  Maria-Ann  Simmons,  with  Hazel  Clyde's  best 
wishes." 

Then  it  was  Maria-Ann  Simmons's  turn  to  break  down 
and  weep,  at  which  Aunt  Tryphosa  fidgeted,  for  she  had 
not  seen  her  granddaughter  cry  since  she  was  a  little  girl. 

"  Don't  act  like  a  fool,  Maria- Ann,"  she  said,  crustily, 
to  hide  her  own  feelings ;  "  take  your  things  an'  enjoy  'em. 
I  've  seen  tears  enough  for  night  before  Chris'mus,"  she 
added,  ignoring  the  fact  that  she  had  established  a  pre 
cedent. 

"  Well,  I  won't,  grandmarm,"  said  her  granddaughter, 
laughing  and  crying  at  the  same  time  ;  "  but  I  'm  goin'  to 
have  that  cup  of  tea  first  to  kind  of  strengthen  me  'fore  I 
open  the  rest,"  she  added  decidedly.  "  Besides,  I  don't 
want  to  see  everything  at  once  ;  I  want  it  to  last." 

"I  don't  mind  if  I  have  mine,  too.  Guess  you  may  put 
in  two  lumps,  seein'  as  we  did  n't  have  to  pay  for  it,"  and 
the  old  dame  sipped  her  Hyson  with  supreme  satisfaction, 
as  did  likewise  her  granddaughter. 

As  the  latter  pushed  back  her  chair  from  the  table,  her 
grandmother  cautioned  her :  —  "  Look  out !  you  're  settin' 
it  on  another  bag !  "  But  it  was  too  late.  To  Aunt 
Tryphosa's  amazement  and  Maria-Ann's  horror,  the  bag 
suddenly  flopped  up  and  down  on  the  floor,  the  motion 
being  accompanied  with  such  an  unearthly,  "A  —  ee  — 
eetsch  —  ok  —  ak  —  ache  —  eetsch  !  "  that  the  two  women's 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  175 

faces  grew  pale,  and  they  jumped  as  if  they  had  been 
shot. 

Then  Maria- Ann,  with  her  hand  on  her  thumping  heart, 
burst  into  a  shrill  laugh,  and  Aunt  Tryphosa  quavered  a 
thin  accompaniment.  How  they  laughed  !  till  again  the 
tears  rolled  down  their  cheeks. 

"  Scairt  of  hens !  "  chuckled  the  old  dame  as  she  undid 
the  strings  of  the  bag  —  "  at  my  time  of  life  !  Oh,  my 
stars  and  garters,  Maria- Ann  !  ain't  they  beauties  ?  " 

She  drew  out  by  the  legs  two  snow-white  Wyandotte 
pullets,  and  held  them  up  admiringly.  "  They  're  from 
March,  I  know ;  but  just  to  think  of  this,  Maria-Ann !  " 
Again  words  and,  curiously  enough,  eyes,  too,  failed  her, 
and  her  granddaughter  read  the  slip  of  paper  tied  around 
the  leg  of  one  of  the  hens  :  — "  '  One  for  Aunt  Tryphosa, 
and  one  for  Maria-Ann ;  have  laid  three  times ;  last  time 
day  before  yesterday ;  I  hope  they  '11  lay  two  Christmas- 
morning  eggs  for  your  breakfast.  March  Blossom.'  " 

"  I  'm  goin'  to  put  'em  on  some  hay  in  the  clothes- 
basket,  Maria-Ann,  an'  keep  'em  right  under  my  bed  where 
it 's  good  an'  warm,"  said  Aunt  Tryphosa,  decidedly. 
"  They  're  kinder  quality  folks  and  can't  be  turned  in 
among  common  fowl.  Besides,  I  ain't  got  another  hood, 
an'  if  they  should  freeze  their  combs,  I  'd  never  forgive 
myself." 

"  Well,  I  would,  grandmarm,"  said  Maria-Ann,  still 
laughing,  as  she  untied  the  last  two  bundles.  "  Laws  !  " 
she  exclaimed,  "  Here  's  New  York  style  for  you."  She 
read  the  visiting  card  : 


176  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  To  Mrs.  Tryphosa  Little,  with  the  Season's  compli 
ments  from  John  Curtis  Clyde.  4  East th  Street." 

"  Well,  I  'm  dumbfoundered,"  sighed  Mrs.  Tryphosa 
Little,  and  more  she  could  not  say  as  she  took  out  of  the 
large  pasteboard  box,  a  white  silk  neckerchief,  a  cap  of 
black  net  and  lace  with  a  "  chou  "  of  purple  satin  lute 
string,  a  black  fur  collar  and  a  muff  to  match,  in  all  of 
which  she  proceeded  to  array  herself  with  the  utmost 
despatch,  forgetful  of  the  two  hens,  which,  after  wandering 
aimlessly  about  the  kitchen,  had  roosted  finally  011  the 
back  of  her  wooden  rocking-chair,  where  they  balanced 
themselves  with  some  difficulty. 

But  suddenly,  as  she  was  thrusting  her  hands  into  the 
new  muff,  she  paused,  laid  it  down  on  the  table,  and  said, 
rather  querulously,  "  Help  me  off  with  these  things,  Maria- 
Ann  ;  I  'm  all  tuckered  out.  I  can  stan'  a  day's  washin' 
as  well  as  anybody,  if  I  am  eighty-one  come  next  June, 
but  I  can't  stan'  no  such  night  'fore  Chris'mus  as  this, 
an'  I  'm  goin'  to  bed,  an'  take  the  hens." 

"  I  would,  grandmarm,"  said  her  granddaughter,  gently, 
taking  off  the  unwonted  finery  and  kissing  the  wrinkled 
face.  "  You  go  to  bed  ;  I  put  the  soap-stone  in  two  hours 
ago,  so  it 's  nice  an'  warm.  I  '11  clear  up,  an'  don't  you 
mind  me  —  here,  let  me  take  one  of  those  hens." 

"  No,  I  can  take  care  of  hens  anytime,"  snapped  Aunt 
Tryphosa,  for  she  was  tired  out  with  happiness,  "  but  I 
can't  stan'  so  many  presents,  an'  I  'm  too  old  to  begin." 
She  disappeared  in  the  bed-room,  the  two  Wyandotte  hens 
hanging  limply,  heads  downward,  from  each  hand. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  177 

Maria-Ann  picked  up  the  paper  and  the  wraps,  and 
made  all  tidy  again  in  the  kitchen.  She  put  her  hand  on 
the  last  bag  that  was  so  heavy  she  had  not  moved  it  from 
the  door.  "It's  a  bag  of  cracked  corn  —  hen-feed,"  she 
said  to  herself,  "an'  it's  from  Chi,  I  know  as  well  as  if 
I'd  been  told." 

Then  she  sat  down  in  the  rocker  before  the  stove  and 
put  her  feet  in  the  oven  to  warm.  She  blew  out  the  light 
and  sat  awhile  in  silence,  thinking  happy  thoughts. 

The  fire  crackled  in  the  stove,  and  dancing  lights, 
reflected  from  the  open  grate,  played  on  the  wall.  The 
moon  shone  full  upon  the  frosted  window  panes,  and  the 
Christmas  wreaths  were  set  in  masses  of  encrusted  bril 
liants.  The  kettle  began  to  sing,  and  so  did  Maria- Ann  — 
but  softly,  for  fear  of  waking  Aunt  Tryphosa : 

"  '  My  soul,  be  on  thy  guard ; 
Ten  thousand  foes  arise ; 
The  hosts  of  sin  are  pressing  hard 
To  draw  thee  from  the  skies.'  " 


12 


XVII 

HUNGER-FORD 

SUCH  a  line  of  communication  as  was  soon  established 
between  Mount  Hunger  and  New  York,  Mount  Hunger 
and  Cambridge,  the  Lost  Nation  and  Barton's  River, 
Hunger-ford  —  the  Fords'  new  name  for  the  old  Morris 
farm  —  and  the  Blossom  homestead  on  the  Mountain ! 

Uncle  Sam's  post,  the  Western  Union  Telegraph  Com 
pany,  the  American  Express,  a  line  of  freight,  saddle 
horses,  sleds,  and  the  old  apple-green  cart  on  runners  were 
all  pressed  into  service;  in  all  the  United  States  of 
America  there  were  no  busier  young  people  than  those 
belonging  to  the  Lost  Nation. 

They  wrote  notes  to  one  another  with  an  air  of  great 
mystery ;  they  drove  singly,  in  couples,  or  all  together  to 
Barton's  River  with  Chi ;  they  smuggled  in  bundles  and 
express  packages  of  all  sorts  and  sizes ;  looked  guilty  if 
caught  whispering  together  in  the  pantry ;  took  many  a 
sled-ride  over  to  Hunger-ford,  and  audaciously  remained 
there  three  hours  at  a  time  without  giving  Mrs.  Blossom 
any  good  reason  either  for  their  going  or  remaining. 

The  acquaintance  formed  between  the  Blossoms  and  the 
Fords  just  after  Thanksgiving,  was  fast  ripening  into 
friendship.  March,  usually  shy  with  strangers,  fairly 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  179 

adored  the  tall,  quiet  son  with  the  wonderful  smile,  and 
expanded  at  once  in  his  genial  presence.  With  Ruth  Ford 
he  had  much  in  common ;  and  regularly  once  a  week  since 
Thanksgiving  he  had  drawn  and  painted  with  her  in  her 
studio,  the  room  that  Aunt  Tryphosa  had  so  graphically 
described.  His  gift  was  far  more  in  that  direction  than 
hers ;  and  Ruth,  recognizing  it,  encouraged  him,  spurred 
his  ambition,  and  placed  all  her  materials  at  his  disposal. 

Rose's  sweet  voice  had  proved  a  delight  to  them  all,  and 
Hazel's  violin  was  being  taught  to  play  a  gentle  accom 
paniment  to  Alan  Ford's,  that  sang,  or  wept,  or  rejoiced 
according  to  the  player's  mood. 

"  I  am  so  thankful,  Ben,  that  our  Rose  can  have  the 
advantage  of  such  companions  just  at  this  time  of  her  life," 
said  Mrs.  Blossom,  on  the  afternoon  before  Christmas 
when  the  two  eldest,  with  Hazel,  had  gone  over  to  Hunger- 
ford  with  joyful  secrets  written  all  over  their  happy  faces. 

"  So  am  I,  Mary.  When  I  see  young  men  like  Ford,  I 
realize  what  I  lost  in  being  obliged  to  give  up  college  on 
father's  account,"  said  Mr.  Blossom,  with  a  sigh. 

"  I  do,  too,  Ben ;  and  what  I  've  lost  in  opportunity 
when  I  see  that  gifted  woman,  Mrs.  Ford.  She  has  trav 
elled  extensively,  she  reads  and  speaks  both  German  and 
French,  she  is  a  really  wonderful  musician,  and  keeps  up 
with  every  interest  of  the  day,  besides  being  a  splendid 
housekeeper  and  devoted  to  her  children." 

"Do  you  regret  it,  Mary?"  said  her  husband,  looking 
straight  before  him  into  the  fire. 

"Not   with   you,    Ben,"    was    Mary  Blossom's   answer. 


180  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Taking  her  husband's  face  in  both  her  hands  and  turning 
it  towards  her,  she  looked  into  his  eyes,  and  received  the 
smile  and  kiss  that  were  always  ready  for  her. 

u  If  we  did  n't  have  all  this  when  we  were  young  people, 
Mary,  we  '11  hope  that  we  may  have  it  in  our  children,"  he 
said,  earnestly. 

Just  then  Chi  came  in,  and  gave  a  loud  preliminary, 
"  Hem  ! "  for  to  him,  Ben  and  Mary  Blossom  would  always 
be  lovers.  "  Guess  't  is  'bout  time  to  hitch  up,  if  you  're 
goin'  clear  down  to  Barton's  to  meet  the  train,  Ben ;  I  've 
got  to  go  over  eastwards  with  the  children." 

"  All  right,  Chi,  I  'd  rather  drive  down  to  the  station 
to-night ;  it 's  good  sleighing  and  our  Mountain  is  a  fine 
sight  by  moonlight." 

"  Can't  be  beat,"  said  Chi,  emphatically.  "  S'pose  you  '11 
be  back  by  seven,  sharp?  I  kind  of  want  to  time  myself, 
on  account  of  the  s'prise." 

"  We  '11  say  seven,  and  I  '11  make  it  earlier  if  I  can. 
You  're  off  for  Aunt  Tryphosa's  now  ?  " 

"  Just  finished  loadin'  up  —  There  they  are  !  "  and  in 
rushed  the  whole  troop,  hooded  and  mittened  and  jacketed 
and  leggined,  ready  for  their  after-sunset  raid. 

"  Good-bye,  Martie ! "  screamed  Cherry,  wild  with  excite 
ment,  and  made  a  dash  for  the  door ;  then  she  turned  back 
with  another  dash  that  nearly  upset  May,  and,  throwing  her 
arms  around  her  mother's  neck,  nearly  squeezed  the  breath 
from  her  body.  "  O  Mumpsey,  Dumpsey,  dear !  I  'm 
having  such  an  awfully  good  time ;  it 's  so  much  happier 
than  last  Christmas  !  " 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  181 

"  And,  O  Popsey,  Dopsey,  dear ! "  laughed  Rose,  mimick 
ing  her,  but  with  a  voice  full  of  love,  and  both  mittens 
caressing  his  face,  "  it 's  so  good  to  have  you  well  enough 
to  celebrate  this  year !  " 

Hazel  slipped  her  hand  into  Chi's,  and  whispered,  "  Oh, 
Chi,  I  wish  I  had  a  lot  of  brothers  and  sisters  like  Rose. 
Anyway,  papa 's  coming  to-night,  so  I  '11  have  one  of  my 
own,"  she  added  proudly. 

"  Guess  we  'd  better  be  gettin'  along,"  said  Chi,  still 
holding  Hazel's  hand.  "  It 's  goin'  to  be  a  stinger,  'n'  it 's 
a  mile  'n'  a  half  over  there." 

"  Come  on  all !  "  cried  March ;  "  we  '11  be  back  before 
you  are,  father." 

"  We  '11  see  about  that,"  laughed  his  father,  as  he  caught 
the  merry  twinkle  in  his  wife's  eye. 

But  March  was  right  by  the  margin  of  only  a  minute  or 
two ;  for  just  as  the  merry  crowd  entered  the  house  on  their 
return  from  their  errand  of  "  goodwill,"  they  heard  Mr. 
Blossom  drive  the  sleigh  into  the  barn.  In  another  moment 
Hazel  had  flung  wide  the  door  and  was  caught  up  into  her 
father's  arms. 

In  the  midst  of  their  cordial  greetings  there  was  a  loud 
knock  at  the  door.  They  all  started  at  the  sound,  and 
Budd,  who  was  nearest,  opened  it. 

"  Please,  Budd,  may  I  come  in,  too  ? "  said  a  voice 
everyone  recognized  as  the  Doctor's. 

Then  the  whole  Blossom  household  lost  their  heads  where 
they  had  lost  their  hearts  the  year  before.  Rose  and  Hazel 
and  Cherry  fairly  smothered  him  with  kisses ;  Budd  wrung 


182  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

one  hand,  March  gripped  another ;  May  clung  to  one  leg, 
and  the  monster  of  a  puppy  contrived  to  get  under  foot, 
although  he  stood  two  feet  ten. 

Jack  Sherrill,  looking  in  at  the  window  upon  all  this 
loving  hominess,  felt,  somehow,  physically  and  spiritually 
left  out  in  the  cold.  "  What  a  fool  I  was  to  come !  "  he 
said  to  himself.  Nevertheless  he  carried  out  his  part  of 
the  program  by  stepping  up  to  the  door  and  knocking. 
This  time  Mrs.  Blossom  opened  it. 

"  Have  you  room  for  one  more,  Mrs.  Blossom  ?  "  he  said 
with  an  attempt  at  a  smile,  but  looking  sadly  wistful,  so 
wistful  and  lonely  that  Mary  Blossom  put  out  both  hands 
without  a  word,  and,  somehow,  —  Jack,  in  thinking  it  over 
afterwards,  never  could  tell  how  it  happened  so  naturally 
—  he  was  giving  her  a  son's  greeting,  and  receiving  a 
mother's  kiss  in  return. 

In  a  moment  Hazel's  arms  were  around  his  neck ;  — 
"  Oh,  Jack,  Jack  !     I  've  got  three  of  my  own  now ;  I  'm 
almost  as  rich  as  Rose !  " 

Rose,  hearing  her  name,  came  forward  with  frank,  cordial 
greeting,  and  May  transferred  her  demonstrations  of  affec 
tion  from  the  Doctor's  trousers  to  Jack's;  Cherry's  curls 
bobbed  and  quivered  with  excitement  when  Jack  claimed  a 
kiss  from  "  Little  Sunbonnet,"  and  received  two  hearty 
smacks  in  return ;  March  took  his  travelling  bag ;  Budd 
kept  close  beside  him,  and  the  puppy,  who  had  been 
christened  Tell,  nosed  his  hand,  and,  sitting  down  on  his 
haunches,  pawed  the  air  frantically  until  Jack  shook  hands 
with  him,  too. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  183 

By  this  time  the  wistful  look  had  disappeared  from 
Jack's  eyes,  and  his  handsome  face  was  filled  with  such  a 
glad  light  that  the  Doctor  noticed  it  at  once.  He  shook 
his  head  dubiously,  with  his  eyebrows  drawn  together  in  a 
straight  line  over  the  bridge  of  his  nose,  and,  from  under 
neath,  his  keen  eyes  glanced  from  Jack  to  Rose  and  from 
Rose  back  again  to  Jack.  Then  his  face  cleared,  and 
explanations  were  in  order. 

"  Why,  you  see,"  the  Doctor  said  to  Mrs.  Blossom,  "my 
wife  had  to  go  South  with  her  sister,  and  could  not  be  at 
home  for  Christmas  —  the  first  we  've  missed  celebrating 
together  since  we  were  married  —  and  when  I  found  John 
was  coming  up  to  spend  it  with  you,  I  couldn't  resist 
giving  myself  this  one  good  time.  But  Jack  here  has 
failed  to  give  any  satisfactory  account  of  how  or  why  he 
came  to  intrude  his  long  person  just  at  this  festive  time. 
I  thought  you  were  off  at  a  Lenox  house-party  with  the 
Seatons  ?  "  he  said,  quizzically. 

Jack  laughed  good-naturedly.  "  I  don't  blame  you  for 
wondering  at  my  being  here;  but  I've  been  here  be 
fore,"  he  said,  willing  to  pay  back  the  Doctor  in  his  own 
coin. 

"  The  deuce  you  have  !  "  exclaimed  the  Doctor.  "  I  say, 
Johnny,  are  we  growing  old  that  these  young  people  get 
ahead  of  us  so  easily  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  feel,  Dick,  but  I  'm  as  young  as 
Jack  to-night." 

"  That 's  right,  Papa  Clyde,"  said  Hazel,  approvingly, 
softly  patting  her  father  on  the  head ;  "  and,  Jack,  you  're 


184  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

a  dear  to  come  up  here  to  see  us,  for  you  've  just  as  much 
right  as  the  Doctor." 

The  Doctor  pretended  to  grumble  :  —  "  Come  to  see  you, 
indeed,  you  superior  young  woman  —  you  indeed  !  As  if 
there  weren't  any  other  girls  in  the  world  or  on  Mount 
Hunger  but  you  and  Rose  —  much  you  know  about  it." 

"  Well,  I  'd  like  to  know  who  you  came  to  see,  if  not 
us  ? "  laughed  Hazel,  sure  of  her  ultimate  triumph. 

"Why,  my  dear  Ruth  Ford,  to  be  sure." 

"  Ruth  Ford ! "  they  exclaimed  in  amazement. 

"  Why  not  Ruth  Ford  ?  You  did  n't  suppose  I  would 
come  away  up  here  into  the  wilds  of  Vermont  in  the  dead 
of  winter,  did  you?  just  to  see — "  But  Hazel  laid  her 
hand  on  his  mouth. 

"  Stop  teasing,  do,"  she  pleaded,  "  and  tell  us  how  you 
knew  our  Ruth." 

"  Our  Ruth  !  Ye  men  of  York,  hear  her !  "  said  the 
Doctor,  appealing  to  Mr.  Clyde  and  Jack.  "  The  next 
thing  will  be  '  our  Alan  Ford,'  I  suppose.  How  will  you 
like  that,  Jack?" 

"  I  feel  like  saying  '  confound  him,'  only  it  would  n't  be 
polite.  You  see,  Doctor,  I  thought  I  had  preempted  the 
whole  Mountain,  and  was  prepared  to  make  a  conquest  of 
Miss  Maria- Ann  Simmons  even;  but  if  Mr.  Ford  has 
stepped  in  "  —  Jack  assumed  a  tragic  air  —  "  there  is 
nothing  left  for  me  in  honor,  but  to  throw  down  the 
gauntlet  and  challenge  him  to  single  combat  —  hockey- 
sticks  and  hot  lemonade  —  for  her  fair  hand." 

At  the  mention  of  Maria-Ann,  Rose  and  Hazel,  Budd 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  185 

and  Cherry  and  March  went  off  into  fits  of  laughter. 
They  laughed  so  immoderately  that  it  proved  infectious 
for  their  elders,  and  when  Chi  entered  the  room  Budd 
cried  out,  "  Oh,  Chi,  you  tell  about  the  —  we  can't  —  the 
rooster  and  the  hoods,  and  —  Oh  my  eye  !  —  '  Budd  was 
apparently  on  the  verge  of  convulsions. 

"  I  stuffed  snow  into  my  mouth  and  made  my  teeth  ache 
so  as  not  to  laugh  out  loud,"  said  Cherry ;  at  which  there 
was  another  shout,  and  still  another  outburst  at  the  table 
when  Chi  described  the  scene  in  the  hen-house. 

"  Now,  children,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom,  after  the  somewhat 
hilarious  evening  meal  was  over,  the  table  cleared,  the 
dishes  were  wiped  and  put  away,  "  we  're  going  to  do  just 
for  this  once  as  you  want  us  to  —  hang  up  our  stockings  ; 
but  I  want  all  of  you  to  hang  up  yours,  too.  If  you  don't, 
I  shall  miss  the  sixes  and  sevens  and  eights  so,  that  it  will 
spoil  my  Christmas." 

"  We  will,  Martie,"  they  assented,  joyfully ;  for,  as 
March  said,  it  would  not  seem  like  night  before  Christmas 
if  they  did  not  hang  up  their  stockings. 

"Yes,  and  papa,  and  you,"  said  Hazel,  turning  to  the 
Doctor,  "must  hang  up  yours,  and  you,  too,  Jack." 

"  Why,  of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom,  "  everybody  is  to 
hang  up  a  stocking  to-night,  even  Tell." 

"  Oh,  Martie,  how  funny ! "  cried  Cherry,  "  but  he 
hasn't  a  truly  stocking." 

"  No,  but  one  of  Budd's  will  do  for  his  huge  paw  — 
won't  it,  old  fellow  ?  "  she  said,  patting  his  great  head. 

Then  Budd  must  needs  bring  out  a  pair  of  his  pedal 


186  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

coverings  and  try  one  brown  woollen  one  on  Tell,  much 
to  his  majesty's  surprise  ;  for  Tell  was  a  most  dignified 
youth  of  a  dog,  as  became  his  nine  months  and  his  famous 
breed. 

Early  in  the  evening  the  stockings  were  hung  up  over 
the  fireplace,  all  sizes  and  all  colors :  —  May's  little  red 
one  and  Chi's  coarse  blue  one ;  Mr.  Clyde's  of  thick  silk, 
and  Budd's  and  Tell's  of  woollen ;  Hazel's  of  black  cash 
mere  beside  Jack's  striped  Balbriggan.  What  an  array ! 

Then  Mrs.  Blossom  and  May  went  off  into  the  bedroom, 
and  Mr.  Blossom  and  his  guests  were  forced  to  smoke 
their  after-tea  cigars  in  the  guest  bedroom  upstairs,  while 
the  young  people  brought  out  their  treasures  and  stuffed 
the  grown-up  stockings  till  they  were  painfully  distorted. 

"  Don't  they  look  lovely !  "  whispered  Hazel,  ecstatically 
to  March,  who  begged  Rose  to  get  another  of  their  mother's 
stockings,  for  the  one  proved  insufficient  for  the  fascinating 
little  packages  that  were  labelled  for  her. 

"  Let 's  go  right  to  bed  now,"  suggested  Budd,  "  then 
mother  '11  fill  ours  —  Oh,  I  forgot,"  he  added,  ruefully, 
"  we  are  n't  going  to  have  presents  this  year  — 

"  Why,  yes,  we  are,  too,  Budd,"  said  Rose,  "  we  're  going 
to  give  one  another  out  of  our  own  money." 

"  Cracky  !  I  forgot  all  about  that  —  Budd  tore  up 
stairs  in  the  dark,  and  tore  down  again  and  into  the  bed 
room,  crying :  —  "  Now  all  shut  your  eyes  while  I  'm  going 
through  !  "  which  they  did  most  conscientiously. 

Soon  they,  too,  were  invited  laughingly  to  retire,  and  by 
half-past  ten  the  house  was  quiet. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  187 

"  'TWAS    THE    NIGHT  BEFORE  CHRISTMAS,  AND  ALL  THROUGH  THE 

HOUSE, 
NOT  A  CREATURE  WAS  STIRRING,  NOT  EVEN  A  MOUSE;" 

Stretched  out  on  the  hearth-rug  lay  Tell  snoring  loudly, 
And  above  from  the  mantel  the  stockings  hung  proudly; 
When  down  from  the  stairway  there  came  such  a  patter 
Of  stockingless  feet  —  't  was  no  laughing  matter  ! 
As  the  good  Doctor  thought,  for  he  sprang  out  of  bed 
To  see  if  't  were  real,  or  a  dream  in  its  stead. 

But  no !  with  his  eye  at  a  crack  of  the  door 

He  discovered  the  truth  —  't  was  the  Blossoms,  all  four, 

With  Hazel  to  aid  them,  tiptoeing  about 

Like  a  party  of  ghosts  grown  a  little  too  stout. 

They  pinched  and  they  fingered  ;  they  poked  and  they  squeezed 

Each  plump  Christmas  stocking  —  then  somebody  sneezed  ! 

Consternation  and  terror  ! !     The  tall  clock  struck  one 

As  the  ghosts  disappeared  on  the  double-quick  run  ! 

"  'T  WAS    THE    NIGHT  BEFORE    CHRISTMAS,  AND  ALL  THROUGH  THE 

HOUSE, 
NOT  A  CREATURE  WAS  STIRRING,  NOT  EVEN  A  MOUSE;  " 

Without  in  the  moonlight,  the  snow  sparkled  bright; 
The  Mountain  stood  wrapped  in  a  mantle  of  white, 
With  a  crown  of  dark  firs  on  his  noble  old  crest 
And  ermine  and  diamonds  adorning  his  breast ; 
And  the  stars  that  above  him  swung  true  into  line 
Once  shone  o'er  a  manger  in  far  Palestine. 

What  a  Christmas  morning  that  was  ! 

Chi  was  up  at  five  o'clock,  building  roaring  fires,  for  it 
was  ten  degrees  below  zero. 

With  the  first  glint  of  the  sun  on  the  frosted  panes  the 
household  was  astir.  At  precisely  seven  the  order  was 
given  to  take  down  the  thirteen  stockings.  But  bless 


188  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

you !  You  're  not  to  think  the  stockings  could  hold  all 
the  gifts.  In  front  of  each  wide  jamb  were  piled  the 
bundles  and  packages,  three  feet  high ! 

Rose  hesitated  a  moment  when  the  children  sat  down  on 
the  rug  with  their  stockings,  as  was  their  custom  every 
Christmas  morn  ;  then  she  plumped  down  among  them, 
saying,  laughingly : 

"  I  don't  care  if  I  am  growing  up,  Martie  —  it 's  Christ 
mas." 

Upon  which  Jack,  hugging  his  striped  Balbriggan,  sat 
down  beside  her. 

Such  "  Ohs  "  and  "  Ahs  "  !  Such  thankings  and  squeez- 
ings  !  Such  somersaults  as  were  turned  by  March  and 
Budd  at  the  kitchen  end  of  the  long-room  !  Such  raptur 
ous  gurgles  from  May  I  Such  hand-shakes  and  kisses ! 
Such  silent  bliss  on  the  part  of  Chi,  who,  though  suffering 
as  if  in  a  Turkish  bath,  had  donned  his  new,  blue  woollen 
sweater,  drawn  on  his  gauntleted  beaver  gloves,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  investigate  his  stocking  with  the  air  of  a  man 
who  has  nothing  more  to  wish  for.  And  through  all  the 
chaotic  happiness  a  sentence  could  be  distinguished  now 
and  then. 

"  Chi,  these  corn-cob  pipes  are  just  what  I  shall  want 
after  Christmas  when  I  give  my  Junior  Smoker." 

"  Oh,  Martie,  it  can't  be  for  me !  "  as  the  lovely  white 
serge  dress,  ready  made  and  trimmed  with  lace,  was  held 
up  to  Rose's  admiring  eyes. 

Budd  was  caressing  with  approving  fingers  a  regular 
"  base-ball-nine  "  bat  and  admiring  the  white  leather  balls. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  189 

"  I  say,  it 's  a  stunner,  Mr.  Sherrill ;  but  how  did  you 
know  I  wanted  it?  " 

Mr.  Clyde,  who  was  touched  to  his  very  heart's  core  by 
Hazel's  gift  of  a  dollar  pair  of  suspenders  which  she  had 
earned  by  her  own  labor,  felt  a  small  hand  slipped  into  his, 
and  found  Cherry  Bounce  looking  up  at  him  with  wide, 
adoring,  brown  eyes,  which,  for  the  first  time,  she  had 
taken  from  her  beautiful  Emilie  Angelique,  whom  she 
held  pressed  to  her  heart :  — 

"  I  want  to  whisper  to  you,"  she  said,  shyly.  Mr.  Clyde 
bent  down  to  her ;  —  "  After  I  said  my  prayers  to  Martie, 
I  asked  God  to  give  me  Emilie  Angelique  —  every  night," 
she  nodded —  "but  I  only  told  Budd,  so  how  did  you 
know?" 

March  was  lost  to  the  world  in  his  volume  of  foreign 
photographs,  in  his  boxes  of  paints  and  brushes,  and  a 
whole  set  of  drawing  materials.  He  had  not  as  yet  thanked 
Hazel  for  them. 

Everybody  was  happy  and  satisfied.  Everybody  said  he 
or  she  had  received  just  exactly  the  thing.  Tell  alone 
could  not  express  his  gratification  in  words.  He  had  been 
given  his  woollen  stocking,  and  nosed  about  till  he  had 
brought  forth  three  fat  dog-biscuit,  a  deliciously  juicy- 
greasy  beef  bone,  wrapped  in  white  waxed  paper  and  tied 
at  one  end  with  a  blue  ribbon,  a  fine  nickelplated  dog 
collar  with  a  bell  attached,  and  last,  from  the  brown 
woollen  toe,  three  lumps  of  sugar. 

One  by  one  he  took  the  gifts  and  laid  them  down  at 
Mrs.  Blossom's  feet ;  putting  one  huge  paw  firmly  on  the 


190  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

waxed-paper  package,  he  waved  the  other  wildly  until  she 
took  it  and  spoke  a  loving  word  to  him.  Then,  taking  up 
his  beloved  bone,  he  retired  with  it  to  the  farthest  end 
of  the  long-room,  under  the  kitchen  sink,  and  licked  it  in 
peace  and  joy. 

Jack  and  Chi  in  the  joyful  confusion  had  slipped  from 
the  room. 

Soon  there  was  a  commotion  in  the  woodshed,  and  the 
two  made  their  appearance  dragging  after  them  a  brand- 
new  double-runner  and  a  real  Canadian  toboggan,  which 
Jack  had  ordered  from  Montreal  for  March. 

Breakfast  proved  to  be  a  short  meal,  for  the  whole  family 
was  wild  to  try  the  new  toboggan  with  Jack  to  engineer 
it.  Then  it  was  up  and  down  —  down  and  up  the  steep 
mountain  road  ;  Jack  and  Doctor  Heath,  Mr.  Clyde,  Mr. 
Blossom  and  Chi,  all  on  together — clinging  for  dear  life, 
laughing,  whooping,  panting,  hurrahing  like  boys  let  out 
from  school,  while  March  and  Budd  and  Rose  and  Hazel 
and  Cherry  flew  after  them  on  the  double-runner,  the  keen 
air  biting  rose-red  cheeks,  and  bringing  the  stinging  water 
to  the  eyes. 

But  what  sport  it  was  I 

"  Now,  this  is  something  like,"  panted  Jack,  drawing 
up  the  hill  with  Chi,  his  handsome  face  aglow  with  life 
and  joy. 

"  By  George  Washin'ton !  it 's  the  nearest  thing  to 
shootin'  Niagary  that  I  ever  come,"  puffed  Chi. 

"Didn't  we  take  that  water-bar  neatly?"  laughed  Jack. 

"  'N  inch  higher,  '11'  we  'd  all  been  goners  ;  —  I  had  n't 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  191 

a  minute  to  think  of  it,  goin'  to  the  rate  of  a  mile  a  min 
ute  ;  but  if  I  had  —  I  'd  have  dusted  !  Guess  I  '11  make 
it  level  before  I  try  it  with  the  children,  —  'n'  I  want  you 
to  know  there 's  no  coward  about  me,  but  I  'm  just  speak- 
iu'  six  for  myself  this  time." 

So  the  morning  sped.  Even  Mrs.  Blossom  and  May 
were  taken  down  once,  and  the  Doctor  stopped  only  be 
cause  he  wanted  to  make  a  morning  call  on  his  patient, 
Ruth  Ford ;  for  it  was  by  his  advice  the  family  had  come 
to  live  for  three  years  in  this  mountain  region. 

The  horn  for  the  mid-day  meal  sounded  down  the  Moun 
tain  before  they  had  thought  of  finishing  the  exciting 
sport,  and  one  and  all  brought  such  keen  appetites  to  the 
Christmas  dinner,  that  Mrs.  Blossom  declared  laughingly 
that  she  would  give  them  no  supper,  for  they  had  eaten 
the  pantry  shelves  bare. 

Such  roast  goose  and  barberry  jam !  Such  a  noble 
plum-pudding  set  in  the  midst  of  Maria-Ann's  best  wreath, 
for  she  and  Aunt  Tryphosa  had  sent  over  their  simple 
gifts  by  an  early  teamster.  Such  red  Northern  Spies  and 
winter  russet  pears  I  And  such  mirth  and  shouts  and 
jests  and  quips  to  accompany  each  course ! 

It  was  genuine  New  England  Christmas  cheer,  and  the 
healths  were  drunk  in  the  wine  of  the  apple  amid  great 
applause,  especially  Doctor  Heath's : 

"  Health,  peace,  and  long  life  to  the  Lost  Nation  —  May 
its  tribe  increase  !  " 

And  how  they  laughed  at  Chi,  when  he  proposed  the 
health  of  the  Prize  Chicken  (which,  by  the  way,  he  had 


192  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

kept  for  the  next  season's  mascot,)  and  recounted  the 
episode  in  the  barn. 

What  shouts  greeted  Budd,  who,  rising  with  great 
gravity,  his  mouth  puckered  into  real,  not  mock,  serious 
ness  —  and  that  was  the  comical  part  of  it  all  —  said 
earnestly : 

"  To  my  first  wife !  "  and  sat  down  rather  red,  but  grati 
fied  not  only  by  the  prolonged  applause,  but  by  the  enthu 
siasm  with  which  they  drank  to  this  unexpected  toast  from 
his  unsentimental  self. 

Directly  after  dinner  Mr.  Clyde  declared  that  a  seven- 
mile  walk  was  an  actual  necessity  for  him  in  his  present 
condition,  and  invited  all  who  would  to  accompany  him  to 
call  in  state  on  Mrs.  Tryphosa  Little  and  Miss  Maria-Ann 
Simmons.  Only  Doctor  Heath  and  Jack  went  with  him, 
for  Mr.  Blossom  and  Chi  had  matters  to  attend  to  at  home, 
and  Rose  and  Cherry  and  Hazel  were  needed  to  help  Mrs. 
Blossom.  Even  March  and  Budd  turned  to  and  wiped 
dishes. 

"  I  '11  set  the  table  now,  Martie,"  said  Rose,  "  then  there 
will  be  no  confusion  to-night —  there  are  so  many  of  us." 

"  No  need  for  that  to-night,  children,"  replied  Mrs. 
Blossom,  with  a  merry  smile.  " '  The  last  is  the  best  of 
all  the  rest,'  for  we  were  all  invited  a  week  ago  to  take 
tea  and  spend  Christmas  evening  at  Hunger-ford." 

"  Oh,  Martie  ! "  A  joyful  shout  went  up  from  the  six, 
that  was  followed  by  jigs  and  double-shuffles,  pas-seuls 
and  fancy  steps,  in  which  dish-towels  were  waved  wildly, 
and  tin  pans  were  pounded  instead  of  wiped. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  193 

When  the  din  had  somewhat  subsided  there  were  num 
berless  questions  asked ;  by  the  time  they  were  all  answered, 
and  Rose  and  Hazel  had  donned  their  white  serge  dresses, 
the  gentlemen  had  returned  from  their  walk,  and  it  was 
time  to  go. 

"  That 's  why  Mrs.  Ford  had  us  learn  all  those  songs," 
said  Rose  to  Hazel.  "  Don't  forget  to  take  your  violin." 

A  merrier  Christmas  party  never  set  forth  on  a  straw- 
ride.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blossom  and  May  went  over  in  the 
sleigh,  but  the  rest  piled  into  the  apple-green  pung,  and 
when  they  came  in  sight  of  the  seven-gabled-house,  a 
rousing  three  times  three,  mingling  with  the  sound  of  the 
sleigh-bells,  greeted  the  pretty  sight. 

Every  window  was  illumined,  and  adorned  with  a 
Christmas  wreath.  In  the  light  of  the  rising  moon,  then 
at  the  full,  the  snow  that  covered  the  roof  sparkled  like 
frosted  silver.  The  house,  with  its  background  of  sharply 
sloping  hill  wooded  with  spruce  and  pine,  its  twinkling 
lights  and  the  surrounding  white  expanse,  looked  like  an 
illuminated  Christmas  card. 

Within,  the  hall  was  festooned  with  ground  hemlock 
and  holly;  a  roaring  fire  of  hickory  logs  furnished  light 
and  to  spare.  In  the  living-room  and  dining-room,  Mr. 
Clyde  and  Jack  Sherrill  found,  to  their  amazement,  all  the 
elegance  and  refinement  of  a  city  home  combined  with 
country  simplicity.  The  tea-table  shone  with  the  service 
of  silver  and  sparkled  with  the  many-faceted  crystal  of 
glass  and  carafe.  For  decoration,  the  rich  red  of  the  holly 
berries  gleamed  among  the  dark  green  gloss  of  their  leaves. 

13 


194  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

At  first,  the  younger  members  of  the  Blossom  family 
felt  constrained  and  a  little  awed  in  such  surroundings; 
for  although  they  had  been  several  times  in  the  house, 
they  had  never  taken  tea  there.  But  the  Fords  and  the 
other  city  people  soon  put  them  at  their  ease,  and,  as 
Cherry  declared  afterwards,  "  It  was  like  eating  in  a  fairy 
story."  There  was  a  real  pigeon  pie  at  one  end  and  a 
Virginia  ham  at  the  other,  as  well  as  cold,  roast  duck  with 
gooseberry  jam.  There  were  sparkling  jellies,  and  the 
whole  family  of  tea-cakes  —  orange,  cocoanut,  sponge,  and 
chocolate  ;  and,  oh,  bliss  !  —  strawberry  ice-cream  in  a  nest 
of  spun  cinnamon  candy,  followed  by  Malaga  grapes  and 
hot  chocolate  topped  with  a  whip  of  cream. 

After  tea  there  was  the  surprise  of  a  beautiful  Christmas 
Tree  in  the  library.  Ruth  Ford  had  occupied  many  a 
weary  hour  in  making  the  decorations  —  roses  and  lilies 
fashioned  from  tissue  paper  to  closely  copy  nature  ;  gilded 
walnuts ;  painted  paper  butterflies ;  pink  sugar  hearts, 
and  cornucopias  of  gilt  and  silver  paper,  in  each  of  which 
was  a  bunch  of  real  flowers  —  roses,  violets,  carnations, 
and  daisies,  ordered  by  Jack  Sherrill  from  New  York.  On 
the  topmost  branch,  there  was  a  waxen  Christ-child.  The 
tree  was  lighted  by  dozens  of  tiny  colored  candles.  When 
the  door  was  opened  from  the  living-room,  and  the  children 
caught  sight  of  the  wonderful  tree,  they  held  their  breath 
and  whispered  to  one  another. 

But  more  lovely  than  the  tree  in  the  eyes  of  the  older 
people  were  the  radiant  faces  of  the  young  people  and  the 
children.  Rose,  with  clasped  hands,  stood  gazing  up  at 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  195 

the  Christ-child  that  crowned  the  glowing,  glittering  mass 
of  dark  green.  She  was  wholly  unconscious  of  the  many 
pairs  of  eyes  that  rested  upon  her  in  love  and  admiration. 
There  was  nothing  so  beautiful  in  the  whole  room  as  the 
young  girl  standing  there  with  earnest  blue  eyes,  raised 
reverently  to  the  little  waxen  figure.  Her  lips  were  parted 
in  a  half  smile ;  a  flush  of  excitement  was  on  her  cheeks ; 
the  white  dress  set  off  the  exquisite  fairness  of  her  skin ; 
the  shining  crown  of  golden-brown  hair,  that  hung  in  a 
heavy  braid  to  within  a  foot  of  the  hem  of  her  gown, 
caught  the  soft  lights  above  her  and  formed  almost  a  halo 
about  the  face. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  burst  of  admiration  from  the  chil 
dren,  and,  under  cover  of  it,  Doctor  Heath  turned  to  Mr. 
Clyde,  who  was  standing  beside  him  :  — 

"  By  heavens,  John !  That  girl  is  too  beautiful ;  she 
will  make  some  hearts  ache  before  she  is  many  years  older, 
as  well  as  your  own  Hazel  —  look  at  Tier  now !  " 

The  father's  eyes  rested  lovingly,  bat  thoughtfully,  on 
the  graceful  little  figure  that  was  busy  distributing  the 
cornucopias  with  their  fragrant  contents.  Yes,  she,  too, 
was  beautiful,  giving  promise  of  still  greater  beauty.  He 
turned  to  the  Doctor  and  held  out  his  hand :  — 

"  Richard,  I  have  to  thank  you  for  this  transformation." 

"  No  —  not  me,"  said  the  Doctor,  earnestly,  "  but,"  point 
ing  to  Mrs.  Blossom,  "  that  woman  there,  John.  Hazel 
needed  the  mother-love,  just  as  much  as  Jack  does  at  this 
moment." 

Jack  had  turned  away  when  the  Doctor  began  to  speak 


196  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

of  Rose,  and,  joining  her,  said,  "  Won't  you  wear  one  of  my 
roses  just  to-night,  Miss  Blossom?" 

"  Your  roses !  Why,  did  you  give  us  all  those  lovely 
flowers  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  wanted  to  contribute  my  share,  and  flowers 
seemed  the  most  appropriate  offering  just  for  to-night." 

"  They  're  lovely,"   said  Rose,  caressing  the  exquisite 
petals  of  a  La  France  beauty.    "  Of  course  I  '11  wear  one  — 
she  tacked  one  into  her  belt ;  "  but  why  —  why  !  — has  n't 
anyone  else  roses?"     She  looked  about  inquiringly. 

"  No,  —  the  roses  were  for  their  namesake,"  said  Jack, 
quietly. 

Rose  laughed  merrily,  —  a  pleased,  girlish  laugh. 
"  Then  won't  the  giver  of  the  roses  call  their  namesake, 
'Rose'?  —  for  the  sake  of  the  roses?"  she  added 
mischievously. 

Now  Jack  Sherrill  had  seen  many  girls  —  silly  girls, 
flirty  girls,  sensible  girls,  charming  girls,  smart  girls,  nice 
girls,  and  horrid  girls,  and  flattered  himself  he  knew  every 
species  of  the  genus,  but  just  this  once  he  was  puzzled. 
If  Rose  Blossom  had  been  an  arrant  flirt,  she  could  not  have 
answered  him  more  effectively ;  yet  Jack  had  decided  that 
she  had  too  earnest  a  nature  to  descend  to  flirting.  Some 
how,  that  word  could  never  be  applied  to  Rose  Blossom  — 
"  My  Rose,"  he  said  to  himself,  and  knew  with  a  kind  of 
a  shock  when  he  said  it,  that  he  was  very  far  gone.  But 
in  the  next  breath,  he  had  to  confess  to  himself  that  he 
had  "  been  very  far  gone  "  many  a  time  in  his  twenty -one 
years,  so  perhaps  it  did  not  signify. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  19T 

Indeed,  in  the  next  minute,  he  was  sure  it  did  not  sig 
nify,  for,  before  he  could  gather  his  wits  sufficiently  to 
reply  to  her,  Rose  had  slipped  away  to  the  other  side  of 
the  room,  where  she  was  busying  herself  in  fastening  one 
of  Jack's  roses  into  the  buttonhole  of  Alan  Ford's  Tuxedo. 
In  consequence  of  which,  Jack  turned  his  batteries  upon 
Ruth  Ford  with  such  effect,  that  she  declared  afterwards 
to  her  mother  he  was  one  of  the  most  fascinating  young  men 
—  for  Ruth  was  twenty -one !  —  she  had  ever  met. 

Mrs.  Ford  and  Hazel  and  Mr.  Ford  had  done  their  best 
to  persuade  Chi  to  remain  with  them  for  the  tree.  Even 
Rose  urged  —  but  in  vain.  True,  the  girls  had  insisted 
upon  his  taking  one  look,  then  he  had  begged  off,  saying, 
as  he  patted  Hazel's  hand  that  lay  on  his  arm : 

"  Not  to-night,  Lady-bird.  I  don't  feel  to  home  in  there. 
I  '11  sit  out  here  and  hear  the  music,  then  I  can  beat  time 
with  my  foot  if  I  want  to."  He  remained  in  the  hall,  just 
outside  the  living-room  door,  enjoying  all  he  heard. 

First  there  was  a  lovely  piano  duet,  an  Hungarian  waltz 
by  Brahms,  Mrs.  Ford  and  the  grave,  quiet  son  playing 
with  such  a  perfect  understanding  of  each  other,  as  well  as 
of  the  music,  that  it  proved  a  delight  to  all  present.  Then 
there  was  a  carol  by  all  the  children,  Rose  leading,  and 
Mrs.  Ford  playing  the  accompaniment: 

"  '  Cheery  old  Winter  !    merry  old  Winter! 

Laugh,  while  with  yule-wreath  thy  temples  are  bound ; 
Drain  the  spiced  bowl  now,  cheer  thy  old  soul  now, 
"  Christmas  ivaes  hael  !  "  pledge  the  holy  toast  round. 
Broach  butt  and  barrel,  with  dance  and  with  carol 
Crown  we  old  Winter  of  revels  the  king ; 


198  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

And  when  he  is  weary  of  living  so  merry, 

He  '11  lie  down  and  die  on  the  green  lap  of  Spring. 

Cheery  old  Winter !    merry  old  Winter  ! 

He  '11  lie  down  and  die  on  the  green  lap  of  Spring ! ' ' 

This  won  great  applause,  and  a  loud  thumping  could  be 
heard  in  the  hall.  Jack  went  out  to  try  his  powers  of  per 
suasion  with  Chi,  and  found  him  sitting  close  to  the  door 
with  one  knee  over  the  other  and  a  La  France  rose  (!)  in 
his  buttonhole. 

"  Come  in,  Chi,  do." 

"  Ruther  'd  sit  here." 

"  Oh,  come  on.  " 

"  Nope." 

Jack  laughed  at  the  decided  tone.  "  Where  did  you  get 
this  ?  "  he  asked,  touching  the  boutonniere. 

"  Rose-pose,"  answered  Chi,  laconically,  but  with  a 
happy  smile. 

"  Out  of  her  bunch  ?" 

"  Nope  —  took  it  out  of  her  belt,"  said  Chi,  with  a  curi 
ous  twist  of  his  mouth. 

Jack  went  back  crestfallen,  and  Chi  smiled. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  cut  him  out,  just  for  once ;  kind  of  rough 
on  him,  but 't  won't  hurt  him  any  to  have  a  change.  He  's 
had  his  own  way  a  little  too  much,"  said  Chi  to  himself. 

Again  there  was  music,  a  Schubert  serenade,  with  the 
two  violins,  and  after  that,  the  children  begged  Hazel  to 
dance  the  Highland  Fling  as  she  did  once  in  the  barn. 
Hazel,  nothing  loath,  borrowed  a  blue  Liberty-silk  scarf 
from  Ruth  Ford ;  the  rugs  being  removed  and  Alan  Ford 


SJtrSwiJfcfrM 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  199 

tuning  his  violin,  she  made  her  curtsy,  and,  entering 
heart  and  body  into  the  spirit  of  the  thing,  danced  like 
thistle-down  shod  with  joyousness. 

It  was  a  pretty  sight !  and  Chi  edged  into  the  room, 
while  the  company  made  believe  ignore  him  in  order  to 
induce  him  to  remain  there;  but  when  the  singing  began, 
he  slipped  out  again.  Such  singing  1  Everybody  joined 
in  it.  They  sang  everything  ;  — "  Oh,  where,  tell  me 
where,  is  your  Highland  laddie  gone  ?  "  ;  —  "  Star-spangled 
Banner  "  ;  —  "  Marching  Along  "  ;  —  "  John  Anderson,  my 
Jo  "  ;  —  "  Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  Bonnie  Doon  "  ;  — 
"  Twinkle,  twinkle,  little  star  " ;  —  "  Annie  Laurie  "  ;  — 
"  A  grasshopper  sat  on  a  sweet-potato  vine  "  ;  —  "  Ben 
Bolt";  — "Fair  Harvard"  and,  finally,  "Old  Hundred." 

It  had  been  arranged  that  Mr.  Blossom  should  take  his 
wife  and  the  younger  children  home  in  the  pung ;  the  rest 
were  to  walk.  Chi,  meanwhile,  had  driven  home  in  the 
single  sleigh. 

On  the  walk  home  Jack  tried  what  he  had  been  apt  to 
term  —  of  course,  to  himself  —  his  "  confidential  scheme  " 
with  Rose.  He  had  tried  it  before  with  many  another, 
and  it  had  never  failed  to  work.  The  thought  of  one  of 
his  roses  in  Alan  Ford's  buttonhole  still  rankled,  and  the 
best  side  of  Jack's  manhood  was  not  on  the  surface  when 
he  entered  upon  the  homeward  walk. 

"  Miss  Blossom,"  —  somehow  Jack  had  not  quite  the 
courage  to  say  "  Rose,"  although  he  had  been  so  frankly 
invited  to  —  "I  want  to  tell  you  why  I  came  up  here  ;  it 
must  have  seemed  almost  an  intrusion." 


200  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed,"  said  Rose,  earnestly,  "  and  I  know 
why  you  came ;  Hazel  told  me." 

"  Oh,  she  did,"  said  Jack,  rather  inanety,  and  a  little 
uncertain  as  to  his  footing,  figuratively  speaking ;  for  ho 
had  given  her  the  chance  to  ask  "  Why  ?  "  —  and  she  had  n't 
taken  it;  in  which  she  proved  herself  different  from  all 
those  other  girls  of  his  acquaintance.  To  himself  he 
thought,  "  Well,  for  all  the  cordial  indifference,  commend 
me  to  this  girl." 

"  Yes,  I  'm  sure  it  would  have  seemed  like  anything  but 
Christmas  to  you  in  New  York  with  your  father  in  Europe  ; 
you  must  miss  him  so." 

Jack  felt  himself  blush  in  the  moonlight  at  the  remem 
brance  that  he  had  seen  his  father  but  little  in  the  last 
three  years,  and  did  not  know  what  it  was  in  reality  to 
miss  him.  He  never  remembered  to  have  missed  anything 
or  anybody  but  his  mother,  and  that  indefinite  something 
in  his  life  which  he  had  not  yet  put  himself  earnestly  to 
seek. 

"  I  suppose  you  '11  be  shocked,  Miss  Blossom,  but  I 
don't  really  miss  my  father.  I  'm  only  awfully  glad  to 
see  him  when  I  get  the  chance  —  which  is  n't  often.  He  's 
such  a  busy  man  with  railroads  and  syndicates  and  real 
estate  interests.  I  wonder  often  how  he  can  find  time  to 
write  me  even  twice  a  month,  which  he  has  done  regularly 
ever  since  —  "  he  stopped  abruptly. 

"  Since  what  ?  "  asked  Rose,  innocently. 

"  Since  my  mother  died,"  said  Jack,  in  a  hard,  dry  voice 
that  served  to  cover  his  feeling. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  201 

"  Yes,"  Rose  nodded  sympathetically,  "  Hazel  told  me." 
Then  —  for  Rose's  love  for  her  own  mother  was  something 
bordering  on  adoration  —  she  said  softly,  under  her  breath, 
but  with  her  whole  heart  in  her  voice ;  "  Oh,  I  don't  see 
how  you  could  bear  it  —  how  you  can  live  without  her  !  " 

"  I  don't,"  Jack  replied  with  a  break  in  his  voice,  "  not 
really  live,  you  know.  I  've  always  felt  it,  but  never 
realized  it  until  last  night,  when  I  stood  out  on  the  ve 
randa  and  looked  in  at  the  window  at  you  —  all.  Then  I 
knew  I  'd  been  hungry  for  that  sort  of  thing  for  the  last 
seven  years  — 

Now  Rose's  heart  was  swelling  with  pity  for  the  loneli 
ness  of  the  tall,  young  fellow  swinging  along  beside  her, 
and  at  once  her  inner  eyes  were  opened  to  see  a,  to  her, 
startling  fact.  She  turned  suddenly  towards  him. 

"  Is  that  why  you  kissed  Martie  last  night,  and  came  up 
here  to  us?  "  she  demanded  rather  breathlessly. 

"  Yes ; "  Jack  had  forgotten  his  scheme,  and  was  in  dead 
earnest  now. 

"  Then,"  cried  Rose,  impulsively  —  but  at  the  same  time 
thinking,  "  I  don't  care  if  he  is  engaged  to  that  Miss 
Seaton  " —  "I  hope  you  '11  come  to  us  whenever  you  feel 
like  it ;  for,"  she  added  earnestly,  "  I  'in  beginning  to 
understand  what  Chi  means  when  he  talks  about  Hazel's 
being  poor  and  our  being  rich,  and  —  and  I  'd  love  to  share 
mine  with  you." 

"  You  're  awfully  good,"  said  Jack,  rather  awkwardly 
for  him ;  for,  suddenly,  in  the  presence  of  this  young  girl, 
as  yet  unspoiled  by  the  world,  he  realized  that  Life  was 


202  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

dependent  upon  something  other  than  polo  and  club 
theatricals,  railroad  syndicates  and  Newport  casinos,  stocks 
and  bonds  and  marketable  real  estate. 

Jack  was  young,  and  the  moonlight  was  transfiguring 
the  face  that,  framed  in  a  white,  knitted  hood,  was  turned 
towards  him  full  of  a  frank,  loving  sympathy  for  him  in 
his  "poverty."- —And,  seeing  it,  Jack  suddenly  braced 
himself  as  if  to  meet  some  shock,  thinking,  as  he  strode 
along  in  silence,  "  Oh,  I  'm  gone  !  —  for  good  and  all  this 
time." 

Rose,  a  little  surprised  at  the  prolonged  silence,  wel 
comed  the  sound  of  sleigh-bells  behind  them. 

"Why,  that's  Chi!"  she  exclaimed.  "I  thought  he 
was  at  home  long  before  this.  I  'm  sure  he  left  long 
before  we  did.  Where  have  you  been,  Chi  ?  "  she  called 
so  soon  as  the  sleigh  was  within  hailing  distance. 

"  I  've  been  Chris'musin',"  said  Chi.  "  It  ain't  often 
you  get  just  such  a  night  on  the  Mountain  as  this,  and 
I  've  made  the  most  of  it.  Can  I  give  you  a  lift?  " 

"  No,  thank  you,  Chi,  we  're  almost  home,"  said  Rose. 

"  Well,  then  I  'd  better  be  gettin'  along  —  it 's  pretty 
near  midnight  —  chk,  Bob  —  '  And  Chi  drove  away  down 
the  Mountain,  chuckling  to  himself : 

"  Ain't  a-goin'  to  give  myself  away  before  no  city  chap 
that  has  cut  me  out  as  he  has.  George  Washin'ton ! 
When  I  peeked  into  the  window  'n'  saw  Marier-Ann  sittin' 
there  in  front  of  that  kitchen  table  with  all  those  presents 
on  it,  'n'  the  little  spruce  set  up  so  perky  in  the  middle  of 
'em,  'n'  she  a-wearin'  a  great  handful  of  those  red,  spice 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  203 

pinks  in  her  bosom,  V  her  cheeks  to  match  'em,  'n'  her 
eyes  a-shinin'  —  I  knew  he  'd  come  it  over  me  ;  he  'd  made 
the  first  call,  'n'  given  her  the  first  posies.  Guess  I  won't 
crow  over  him  after  this."  Chi  undid  his  greatcoat,  and 
bent  his  face  until  his  nose  rested  upon  Jack's  rose :  - 

"  It  ain't  touched  yet,  but  it 's  a  stinger  ;  must  be  twenty 
below,  now."  Suddenly  Chi  gave  a  loud  exclamation : 
"  I  must  be  a  fool !  —  I  Ve  broken  one  of  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O. 
rules  not  to  be  afraid  of  anything,  and  did  n't  dare  to  give 
my  posy  to  Marier-Ann !  —  Anyhow,  she  don't  know  I 
was  goin'  to  give  it  to  her,  so  I  need  n't  feel  so  cheap 
about  it  —  Go-long,  Bob !  " 


XVIII 
BTJDD'S  PROPOSAL 

BEFORE  Mr.  Clyde  and  Jack  left  the  next  day,  Budd 
sought  an  opportunity  to  interview  the  latter  on  a  subject, 
that,  for  a  few  weeks  past,  had  been  occupying  many  of  his 
thoughts.  The  applause,  with  which  his  Christmas-day 
toast  had  been  greeted,  had  encouraged  him  to  seek  an 
occasion  for  acquiring  more  definite  knowledge  on  a  sub 
ject  which  lay  near  his  heart.  It  came  when  Jack  was 
packing  his  dress-suit  case  in  the  guest  chamber. 

There  was  a  knock  on  the  half-opened  door. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Jack,  and  Budd  made  his  appearance. 

"  Halloo,  Budd !  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  Any  com 
missions  in  New  York,  or  Boston  ?  " 

"  Don't  know  what  you  mean  by  commissions,"  replied 
Budd,  cautiously,  thrusting  both  hands  deep  into  the 
pockets  of  his  knickerbockers,  and  spreading  his  sturdy 
legs  to  a  wide  V. 

"Anything  I  can  buy  with  that  hen-and-jam  money 
you  helped  to  earn?  —  you  did  well,  Budd,  on  that.  I 
congratulate  you." 

"  I  have  n't  any  of  that  money  left.  You  see,  we  voted 
to  give  it  to  March  to  go  to  college  with.  But  I  've  got 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  205 

two  quarters  an'  a  dollar  —  Christmas  presents,  you  know ; 
an'  that  '11  do,  won't  it  ?  "  he  asked  rather  anxiously. 

"  Well,  that  depends  on  what  you  buy,"  said  Jack,  with 
due  seriousness. 

"  You  '11  keep  mum,  Mr.  Sherrill,  if  I  tell  you  ?  "  said 
Budd,  inquiringly. 

"  Mum 's  the  word,  if  you  say  so,  Budd ;  out  with  it." 

"  Well,  I  want  two  things ;  one  thing  to  make  me  feel 
grown  up,  an'  I  've  wanted  it  for  a  year." 

"  What 's  that,  Budd  ?  "  asked  Jack,  immensely  amused 
at  Budd's  swelling  manhood  —  "A  pair  of  long  trousers  ?  " 

"  No  —  "  Budd  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then  went  on  in 
rather  an  aggrieved  tone;  "I  hate  to  wear  waists  with 
buttons  ;  it 's  just  like  a  baby,  an'  a  fellow  can't  feel  grown 
up  when  he  has  to  button  everything  on.  I  want  to  hitch 
things  up  the  way  March  an'  Chi  do,  an'  I  want  you  to  buy 
me  a  shirt  like  that  one  you  're  rolling  up  —  only  not  flan 
nel,  —  with  a  flap,  you  know,  to  tuck  in." 

uOh,  that's  it,  is  it?"  said  Jack,  endeavoring  to  keep 
his  face  and  voice  from  betraying  his  inward  amusement. 
"  Well,  I  think  you  can  get  one  for  seventy -five  cents  — 
plain  or  striped?" 

"  I  like  those  narrow  blue  striped  ones  like  yours  best," 
he  replied,  pointing  to  one  of  Jack's. 

"  Like  mine  it  shall  be,  Budd ;  but  you  '11  want  a  pair  of 
suspenders,  or  there  '11  be  too  much  hitching  to  be  agreeable 
to  you." 

"  March  has  an  old  pair,  an'  I  'm  going  to  borrow 
them." 


206  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  That 's  an  idea ;  now,  what 's  the  second  thing  ?  " 

"  A  ring." 

"A  ring?"  Jack  looked  amazed. 

Budd  nodded. 

"  For  yourself  ?  "  Jack  questioned  further. 

"  No  —  for  somebody  else." 

"  Do  you  mean  a  ringer  ring  ?  " 

Budd  nodded  again  emphatically. 

"  Engagement  ?  "  laughed  Jack,  at  last,  the  fun  getting 
the  better  of  him. 

Budd's  mouth  puckered  into  solemnity ;  "  No  —  wedding." 

Jack  gave  up  the  packing,  and  sat  down,  shaken  with 
laughter,  on  the  first  convenient  chair. 

"Pardon  me  for  laughing,  Budd,  but  I  can't  help  it. 
What  do  you  want  of  a  wedding  ring  ?  Is  it  for  that  '  first 
wife  '  of  yours  you  toasted  yesterday  at  dinner? " 

Budd  nodded  again.  "  I  don't  see  anything  to  laugh  at," 
he  said,  with  a  reproachful  glance.  "  You  would  n't  if 
you  was  me." 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  should ;  you  're  right  there,  Budd," 
he  replied,  sobering  suddenly  after  his  outburst  of  laughter. 
"  When  is  the  wedding  to  be  ?  " 

Budd  looked  thoughtful.  "  I  have  n't  proposed  yet," 
was  his  matter-of-fact  answer. 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  ?  "  Jack,  sinner  that  he  was, 
scented  some  fun  at  Budd's  expense. 

"  I  'm  going  to  when  I  know  how,"  said  Budd,  humbly. 

"Why  don't  you  take  lessons?"  suggested  Jack. 

"  I  have." 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  207 

"  Of  whom  ?  " 

"  Chi." 

Jack  shouted.  "  What  did  Chi  say  ?  "  he  demanded 
when  he  had  regained  his  breath. 

"  He  said  if  he  wanted  to  marry  a  girl,  he  'd  say  what  he 
wanted  to  —  tell  'em  he  was  fond  of  'em." 

"  '  Fond  of  them '  — hm,"  repeated  Jack,  thoughtfully. 

"  What  do  you  say  ? "  questioned  Budd,  turning  the 
tables  rather  suddenly  on  Jack. 

"  I  don't  say  —  never  said,"  replied  Jack,  shortly. 

"  That 's  what  Chi  said.  He  said  if  I  begun  early  I  'd 
find  out  how." 

"  You  seem  to  be  on  the  right  road  for  it." 

"  Would  you  say  '  fond  of  her '  ?  "  persisted  Budd. 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  should,"  Jack  replied  with  a  peculiar 
smile;  "but,  of  course,  it  would  depend  on  the  girl." 

"  Why,  that 's  just  what  Chi  said !  " 

"  He  did,  did  he  !  "  Jack  laughed  ;  "  Chi  knows  a  thing 
or  two." 

"  But  I  thought  you  'd  know  more."  Budd's  face  began 
to  wear  a  puzzled  look 

Just  then  Jack  heard  Rose's  voice  in  the  long-room 
asking  where  Mr.  Sherrill  was,  and  the  sound  brought 
home  to  him  a  realizing  sense  of  the  fact  that  there  was 
but  an  hour  before  they  left  for  the  station,  and  every 
moment  too  precious  to  be  wasted  on  Budd.  Rising, 
and  proceeding  with  his  packing,  he  said  with  perfect 
seriousness :  — 

"  Well,  Budd,  all  I  can  say  is,  that  if  I  were  going  to 


208  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

ask  a  girl  to  marry  me,  I  should  ask  her  if  she  thought 
enough  of  me  to  take  me  with  all  my  imperfections  and  —  " 
"Where  are  you,  Jack?"  called  Hazel,  at  the  foot  of 
the  stairs ;  "  Chi  has  to  go  an  hour  earlier  than  lie  said, 
and  the  sleigh  is  at  the  door." 

In  the  hurry  of  Jack's  good-byes  and  departure,  the 
sentence  was  never  finished,  and  the  ring  forgotten  by  him. 
But  Budd  remembered. 

He  was  a  sturdy  little  chap,  broad  of  shoulder,  strong 
of  limb.  His  sandy  red  hair  bristled  straight  up  from  his 
full  forehead.  His  pale  blue  eyes,  with  thick  reddish- 
brown  lashes,  were  round  and  serious.  His  nose  was  a 
freckled  pug,  and  his  small  mouth  puckered,  when  he  was 
very  much  in  earnest,  to  the  size  of  a  buttonhole.  From 
the  time  he  had  championed  Hazel's  coming  to  them,  nearly 
a  year  ago,  he  had  never  wavered  in  his  allegiance  to  her, 
and  in  his  small-boy  way  showed  her  his  entire  devotion. 
Hazel  had  been  so  grateful  to  him  for  his  whole-souled 
welcome  of  her,  that  she  took  pains  to  make  his  boy's 
heart  happy  in  every  way  she  could. 

For  Hazel,  Budd  was  never  in  the  way ;  never  asked 
too  many  questions  for  her  patience ;  never  teased  her 
beyond  endurance.  He  found  in  her  a  ready  listener,  a 
good  sympathizer,  a  capital  playmate,  and  a  loving  girl 
friend,  who  reproved  him  sometimes  and,  at  others,  praised 
him.  What  wonder  that  his  ten-year-old  heart  had  warmed 
towards  her  with  its  first  boy-love  ?  and  that  in  his  manly, 
practical  way,  he  made  of  her  an  ideal  ? 

"  I  love  Hazel,  and  when  I  am  big  enough,  I  shall  marry 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  209 

her,"  was  what  he  said  to  himself  whenever  he  stopped  his 
play  long  enough  to  think  about  it  at  all.  Naturally  it 
seemed  the  wisest  thing  to  tell  her  this  when  he  should 
find  the  opportunity,  and  at  the  same  time  recall  the 
fact. 

Fortified  by  the  testimony  of  Chi  and  Jack,  he  bided  his 
time. 

One  Saturday  afternoon  in  January,  Rose  said  suddenly 
to  Hazel :  "  I  wish  I  could  do  some  of  the  things  that  you 
do,  Hazel."  Hazel  looked  up  from  her  book  in  surprise. 

"  What  can  I  do  that  you  can't  do,  Rose  ?  " 

"  You  dance  so  beautifully,  and  I  've  always  wanted  to 
know  how.  I  feel  so  awkward  when  I  see  you  dance  the 
Highland  Fling." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  Hazel  laughed  a  happy  laugh.  "  I  can 
teach  you  to  dance  as  easy  as  anything,  if  you  '11  let  me." 

"  Let  you.  I  "  Rose  exclaimed,  flushing  with  pleasure ; 
"  just  you  try  me  and  see.  But  where  can  we  practise  ?  " 

"  Oh,  out  in  the  barn,"  cried  Hazel.  "  It  '11  be  lots  of 
fun ;  of  course,  it 's  awfully  cold,  but  the  skipping  about 
will  keep  us  warm.  I  '11  tell  you  what  —  I  '11  play  on  the 
violin,  and  you  and  March  and  Budd  and  Cherry  can  learn 
square  dances  first." 

"  What  fun !  "  said  Rose. 

"  What 's  the  joke  ? "  asked  March,  coming  in  at  that 
moment  with  Budd  and  Cherry. 

"  We  're  going  to  have  a  dance  in  the  barn ;  Hazel 's 
going  to  teach  us.  She  says  she  can  do  it  easy  enough." 

"  Oh,  bully  !  "     Budd  threw  up  his  tam-o'-shanter,  and 


210  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Cherry,  attempting  to  charge  up  and  down  the  long-room 
as  she  had  seen  Hazel  at  the  Fords',  tripped  on  the  rug  and 
fell  her  length.  When  March  had  picked  her  up  she 
rubbed  her  nose,  which  was  growing  decidedly  pink,  and 
sniffed  a  little,  then  asked  suddenly :  — 

"  Who  's  going  to  be  my  partner  ?  They  always  have 
partners  in  the  story  books." 

"  Sure  enough,"  Rose  laughed.  "  Whatever  will  we  do, 
Hazel?" 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  said  Hazel,  ruefully.  "  Of 
course,  it  takes  eight." 

"  Why  can't  we  have  chairs  for  partners?  "  said  Cherry. 
"  We  can  bow  to  them  just  as  if  they  were  alive,  and  make 
them  move  round,  can't  we  ?  " 

They  all  laughed  at  Cherry's  inspiration. 

"  You  're  a  brick,  Cherry  Bounce  ?  "  said  March,  approv 
ingly.  "  All  choose  your  partners  !  "  And,  thereupon,  he 
seized  one  of  the  kitchen  chairs,  and  the  rest  followed  his 
example.  Hazel  took  her  violin,  and  hooded  and  mittened 
and  coated  and  mufflered,  they  trooped  out  to  the  barn, 
each  lugging  a  wooden  chair. 

"  Now  I  '11  give  you  the  first  four  changes,"  said  Hazel, 
illustrating,  as  well  as  she  could  in  trying  to  be  two  couples 
at  once,  the  first  movements.  "  Form  your  square  and  get 
ready." 

They  obeyed  with  alacrity,  and  Hazel  drew  her  bow 
across  the  strings. 

"  All  curtsy  to  your  partners !  "  she  shouted,  and  the 
chair-partners  received  a  bow,  and,  in  turn,  were  made  to 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  211 

thump  the  floor  by  being  laid  over  on  their  backs,  and 
righted  suddenly. 

"  First  couple  forward  and  back ! "  shouted  Hazel,  and 
away  went  Rose  dragging  her  chair  after  her  to  meet  March 
and  his  chair  —  thumpity-thump  —  thumpity-tlmmp. 

They  were  in  dead  earnest,  and  the  chairs  were  made  to 
behave  in  a  most  human  way. 

All  went  well  until  they  came  to  the  Grand  Right  and 
Left ;  then  there  arose  such  a  medley  of  shrieks  of  laughter, 
wild  wails  from  the  violin,  thumps  from  sixteen  chair-legs, 
and  stampings  from  eight  human  ones  as  was  never  heard 
before.  In  a  few  minutes  all  was  inextricable  confusion, 
and  the  noise  might  have  been  best  compared  to  a  Medicine 
Dance  among  the  Sioux  Indians. 

Upon  this  scene  Mr.  Blossom  and  Chi,  on  their  return 
from  the  wood,  looked  with  amazement. 

"  They  seem  to  be  havin'  a  regular  pow-wow,"  Chi  re 
marked  dryly,  as  the  exhausted  dancers  and  musician  sat 
down,  panting  for  breath,  on  their  wooden  partners. 
"  Rose-pose  is  about  as  young  as  any  of  'em  —  but  it 
beats  all,  how  she 's  shootin'  up  into  womanhood." 

"  She  's  no  longer  my  little  Rosebud  Blossom,"  said  her 
father,  rather  sadly.  "  I  dread  the  time  when  the  birds 
begin  to  fly  from  the  nest,  and  I  see  it  coming  with  March 
and  Rose." 

Just  then  Rose  caught  sight  of  her  father,  and  ran  to 
him  linking  her  arm  in  his.  "  We  've  had  such  fun,  father ! 
We  're  learning  to  dance  ;  you  must  be  my  partner  some 
time,  for  Hazel 's  going  to  teach  us  the  schottische  next." 


212  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Rose  never  forgot  the  look  of  love  her  father  gave  her, 
nor  the  feel  of  his  hand  as  he  laid  it  on  her  hooded  head  : 
"  Be  my  little  Rose-pose,  as  long  as  you  can,  dear ;  you  're 
growing  up  too  fast." 

She  recalled  afterwards  that  this  first  dance  in  the  barn 
marked  the  last  time  that  she  abandoned  herself  to  the 
children's  fun  with  a  girl's  careless  heart. 

The  winter  twilight  was  fast  closing  about  the  Moun 
tain  and  the  children  just  returning  to  the  house,  when 
Chi  went  out  to  milk.  Leaving  his  lantern,  stool,  and 
pails  in  the  first  stall,  he  entered  the  third  one  to  tie  one 
of  the  cows  to  a  shorter  stanchion.  Before  he  had  finished 
he  heard  Budd's  voice,  and,  looking  over  the  partition,  saw 
him  standing  with  Hazel  in  the  circle  of  light  about  the 
lantern.  In  another  minute  he  began  to  feel  like  an 
eavesdropper. 

"  What  did  you  want  me  to  come  here  for,  Budd?  "  said 
Hazel,  dancing  on  the  barn  floor  to  warm  her  feet. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  something,"  said  Budd,  blowing  011 
his  cold  fingers. 

"  Well,  hurry  up  and  tell ;  it 's  simply  freezing  here. 
Is  it  a  secret  ?  " 

"  Kinder,"  replied  Budd,  blowing  harder ;  then,  sud 
denly  ceasing  the  bellows  movement,  he  drew  a  step  nearer 
to  Hazel,  and,  putting  the  tips  of  his  pudgy  fingers  together 
to  make  a  triangle,  he  puckered  his  mouth  solemnly  and 
said,  looking  up  at  her  with  earnest  eyes  :  — 

"  I  'm  very  fond  of  you." 

Hazel  laughed  merrily.     "  Why,  of  course  you  are,  you 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  213 

funny  boy ;  you  've  always  been  fond  of  me,  have  n't  you  ? 
I  'm  sure  I  've  always  been  fond  of  you.  Is  that  what  you 
kept  me  out  here  in  the  cold  to  say  ?  " 

"  Not  all ;  "  Budd  nodded  seriously.  "  I  'm  very  fond 
of  you,  an'  —  an'  if  you  '11  take  me  with  all  my  perfections 
—  I  think  that 's  the  way  it  goes  —  if  I  have  n't  got  the 
ring  yet,  it  will  be  just  the  same,  you  know."  He  paused, 
and  in  the  circle  of  light  Chi  could  see  the  entire  earnest 
ness  of  his  attitude. 

"  Goodness  me,  Budd  !  What  do  you  mean  about  rings 
and  things  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  marry  you  when  I  'm  big  —  an'  I  thought 
I  'd  speak  'fore  anyone  else  did  to  get  ahead  of  'em." 
Budd  hastened  to  explain,  as  Hazel  showed  signs  of  im 
patience. 

"  Oh,  is  that  all !  "  Hazel  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief.  "  I 
thought  something  was  the  matter  with  you.  Why,  of 
course  you  're  fond  of  me,  Budd ;  but  I  could  n't  marry 
you,  for  I  'm  older  than  you,  you  know." 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  said  Budd,  beginning  to 
blink  rather  suspiciously,  "  I  thought  — 

"Now,  look  here,  Budd,"  said  Hazel,  in  a  business-like 
way ;  "  I  think  everything  of  you,  too,  and  I  '11  tell  you 
what  you  can  be  —  " 

"  What  ?  "  interrupted  Budd,  eagerly,  balancing  himself 
on  the  tips  of  his  toes. 

"  My  knight !  "  said  Hazel,  triumphantly,  "  and  wear  my 
colors.  I  '11  give  you  a  bow  of  crimson  ribbon  —  I  'm 
Harvard,  you  know  —  and  you  must  wear  it  till  you  die. 


214  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

And  I  have  a  white  kid  party  glove  I  '11  give  you,  too, 
and  that  will  mean  I  'm  your  lady-love,  and  it  will  be  just 
like  the  days  of  chivalry,  you  know  we  were  reading  about 
them  the  other  day." 

"  And  you  won't  mind  about  the  ring  ?  "  queried  Budd, 
rather  wistfully. 

"  Not  a  bit  —  a  glove  is  much  nicer  than  a  ring,  and  — 

"  Moo  —  oo  —  oo  —  "  came  from  the  next  stall. 

"  Oh,  goodness  gracious !  How  that  made  me  jump. 
I  'm  not  going  to  stay  out  here  another  minute ;  so  come 
along  if  you  're  coming  "  —  and  the  knight  meekly  followed 
his  lady-love  into  the  house. 


XIX 

A   YEAR   AND   A  DAY 

"  IT  seems  queer  to  settle  down  the  way  we  have,  ever 
since  Christmas.  We  had  such  fun  up  to  that  time." 
Hazel  heaved  a  long  sigh  as  she  wrestled  with  her  Latin 
and  the  Third  Conjugation. 

Rose  looked  up  from  her  Cicero  and  smiled  at  the  bored 
expression  on  Hazel's  face.  "  I  know,  Latin  is  awfully 
dull  at  first,  but  when  you  can  read  it,  you  '11  like  it.  If 
only  you  could  hear  Cicero  give  this  horrid  Catiline  —  the 
old  traitor  —  '  Hail  Columbia '  as  March  says,  you  could  n't 
help  liking  Latin.  Then,  too,  if  we  had  n't  settled  down, 
where  would  my  French  have  been  ?  " 

But  Hazel  still  pouted  a  little.  "  I  wish  papa  had  n't 
wanted  me  to  study  at  all  this  winter  —  I  don't  see  why, 
when  Doctor  Heath  is  always  talking  about  its  '  effect  on 
my  health  — '  " 

She  was  interrupted  by  a  merry  laugh.  Rose  threw 
down  her  Cicero,  caught  away  the  grammar  from  Hazel, 
and,  seizing  her  by  the  hand,  drew  her  into  the  little  bed 
room.  Then,  taking  her  by  the  shoulders,  she  whirled 
her  about  until  she  faced  the  small  looking-glass. 

"  There  ! "  she  exclaimed,  still  laughing,  "  look  at  that 
face  before  you  talk  about  any  '  effect  on  your  health.' " 


216  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Hazel  looked  at  the  reflection  in  the  mirror,  and  smiled 
in  spite  of  herself.  What  a  contrast  to  what  she  was  a 
year  ago  !  For  to-morrow  would  be  St.  Valentine's  day. 
There  were  real  American  Beauty  roses  on  her  cheeks  ; 
the  dark  eyes  were  full  of  sparkling  life ;  the  chestnut- 
brown  hair  fell  in  heavy  curls  upon  her  shoulders.  She 
had  grown  tall,  too,  but  rounded  in  the  process,  and  the 
healthful,  bodily  exercise  had  given  her  grace  of  carriage 
—  she  was  straight  as  an  arrow,  and  as  lithe  as  a  willow 
wand. 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  feel  more  interest  when  Miss  Alton  is 
here,  for  she  is  a  regular  teacher.  When  is  she  coming, 
Rose?" 

"  The  very  last  of  the  month,  when  the  spring  term 
opens.  It's  our  turn  to  have  the  district-school  teacher 
board  with  us,  and  I  've  never  liked  it  before.  But 
now  I  can't  wait  for  Miss  Alton  to  come.  I  think  she's 
lovely." 

"  She  is  n't  half  as  lovely  as  you  are,  Rose,"  said  Hazel, 
turning  suddenly  from  the  glass,  in  which  she  had  been 
scrutinizing  her  reflection,  and  giving  Rose  an  unexpected 
squeeze  and  a  hearty  kiss.  "  I  think  you  are  the  most 
beautiful  girl  I  have  ever  seen,  I  heard  Doctor  Heath  say 
so ;  and  —  I  told  Jack  so  on  Christmas  night." 

"  I  '11  warrant  he  did  n't  agree  with  you,"  said  Rose,  with 
a  pleased  smile.  "  You  forget  Miss  Seaton." 

"  I  know."  Hazel  shook  her  head  dubiously.  "  He 
did  n't  say  a  word  to  me  about  you  —  I  don't  care  if  he 
did  n't,  Rose-pose,  you  're  worth  all  the  Maude  Seatons  in 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  217 

the  world,  and  I  'd  give  anything  to  have  you  for  my  real 
cousin  instead  of  her,  if  only  Jack  — 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about,  Hazel,"  said 
Rose,  interrupting  her  shortly  and  sharply. 

"  And  I  don't  know  why  you  are  speaking  to  me  in  that 
tone,  Rose  Blossom,"  retorted  Hazel,  both  angry  and  hurt. 
"  I  've  said  nothing  I  'm  ashamed  of,  and  I  shall  say  it 
whenever  I  choose  and  to  whomever  I  please,  so  now." 
She  flung  out  of  the  room,  but  not  before  Rose  had  laid  a 
firm  hand  upon  her  shoulder. 

"  Hazel  Clyde,  if  ever  you  speak  of  that  again  to  any 
one,  I  '11  break  friendship  with  you,  see  if  I  don't." 

"  Break  then,"  Hazel  twitched  her  shoulder  from  under 
the  detaining  hand.  "  I  '11  speak  whenever  I  choose.  I 
only  said  I  thought  you  were  the  most  beautiful  girl  I  had 
ever  seen,  and  I  wished  that  you  were  going  to  be  my  real 
cousin,  instead  of  Miss  Seaton,  and  you  need  n't  get  mad 
just  because  Jack  does  n't  happen  to  think  as  I  do  — 

"  Hazel  Clyde !  "  Rose  stamped  her  foot,  "  don't  you 
speak  another  word  to  me ;  I  '11  not  hear  it."  Rose  stuffed 
both  fingers  into  her  ears,  and  beat  an  ignominious  retreat 
to  her  own  room,  where  she  shut  herself  in,  and  was 
invisible  until  tea-time. 

The  family  were  late  in  sitting  down  to  the  table,  for 
Mrs.  Blossom  wanted  to  wait  for  Chi,  who  had  driven 
down  to  Barton's  River  to  take  Mr.  Blossom  to  the  train, 
and  had  arranged  to  bring  March  home  with  him. 

It  was  seven  already.  "  We  won't  wait  any  longer, 
children,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom.  "  Something  must  have 


218  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

detained  Chi.  Budd,  you  may  say  'grace'  to-night?" 
she  added  as  she  took  her  seat. 

Budd  looked  up  in  amazement.  "Why,  Martie,  Rose 
is  here  and  you  always  —  " 

"  That  will  do,  Budd,"  said  his  mother,  quietly,  ignoring 
the  flame  that  shot  up  to  the  roots  of  Rose's  hair,  and  the 
cool  look  of  indifference  on  Hazel's  face.  Budd  folded 
his  pudgy  hands  and  repeated  reverently  the  words  he  had 
heard  father,  or  mother,  or  sister  say  ever  since  he  could 
remember.  Scarcely  had  he  finished  when  Tell's  deep 
note  of  welcome  sounded  somewhere  from  the  road,  and 
the  sleigh-bells  rang  out  on  the  still  air. 

"  There  they  are  1 "  cried  Cherry.  "  May  I  go  to  meet 
them?" 

"Yes  —  but  put  your  cape  over  you,  it's  so  chilly 
to-night." 

In  a  minute  Cherry  was  back  again,  every  single  curl 
bobbing  with  excitement. 

"  Oh,  Martie !  Chi 's  bringing  in  something  all  done 
up  in  the  buffalo  robe,  and  March  won't  tell  me  what 
it  is." 

She  was  followed  by  March,  who  walked  up  to  his 
mother,  put  both  arms  about  her  and  gave  her  a  quiet  kiss. 

"  There,  little  Mother  Blossom,  is  my  valentine  for  you,'' 
he  said  half-shyly,  half-proudly,  and  placed  in  her  hands 
his  first  term's  report  and  a  set  of  books. 

"  Oh,  March,  my  dear  boy  ! "  said  his  mother,  rising  from 
the  table  and  placing  both  hands  on  the  broad,  square 
shoulders  of  her  six  foot  specimen  of  youth,  "  I  'in  afraid 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  219 

I  'm   getting  too   proud   of  you.     Did  you  get  the  first 
Latin  prize?" 

"  You  bet  I  did,  Martie."  March's  rare  smile  illumined 
his  face.  "  There  is  n't  another  fellow  at  Barton's,  who  can 
boast  of  such  a  mother  as  I  have,  and  I  was  n't  going  to  let 
any  second-class  mothers  read  those  books  before  you  did. 
By  Cicky ! "  (which  was  March's  favorite  name  for  the 
famous  orator)  —  "  But  I  've  worked  like  a  Turk,  and 
I  'm  hungry  as  a  Russian  bear.  Why,  Rose,  what 's  the 
matter  with  you?  You  look  awfully  glum,  and  Hazel, 
too.  Here  comes  Chi ;  he 's  bringing  something  that 
will  cheer  you  up.  The  truth  is,  mother,  these  girls 
miss  me." 

"  Indeed,  I  do,  March  ?  "  said  Hazel,  looking  straight  up 
into  his  eyes  and  showing  the  amazed  lad  tears  trembling 
in  her  own. 

"  Guess  there  '11  be  some  breakin'  of  hearts,  this  year, 
Mis'  Blossom."  Chi's  cheery  voice  was  welcome  to  them 
all  for  some  unknown  reason.  He  came  in  loaded  with 
huge  pasteboard  boxes. 

"  Your  arms  will  break  first,  Chi,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom, 
hastening  with  March  to  relieve  him. 

"  It  ain't  the  heft  of  'em,  it 's  the  bulk.  Valentines 
are  generally  pretty  light  weight.  Romancin'  'n'  senti 
ment  don'b  count  for  much,  nowadays,  though  they  take 
up  considerable  room."  He  deposited  the  last  box  on  the 
settle.  "  'N'  there 's  a  whole  parcel  of  things  come  by 
mail.  I  ain't  looked  at  the  superscribin's  —  you  read  'em 
out,  Rose-pose." 


220  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Rose  read  the  addresses;  there  was  more  than  one 
missive  for  each  member  of  the  family. 

"Let's  have  supper,  first,  mother,"  said  March,  "then, 
after  the  table  is  cleared,  we  can  sit  round  and  guess  who 
they  're  from." 

This  proposition  was  welcomed  by  Budd  and  Cherry. 
Rose  and  Hazel  gave  a  cordial  assent,  but  there  was  a 
frigidity  in  the  atmosphere  which  the  outside  temperature 
did  not  warrant.  Chi  and  March  were  aware  of  this  so 
soon  as  they  entered  the  room,  and  Mrs.  Blossom  had 
known  it  the  moment  she  saw  the  girls'  faces  at  the  table. 
She  thought  it  not  wise  to  interfere,  but  let  matters 
straighten  themselves  in  good  time.  She  felt  she  could 
trust  them  both  to  see  things  in  their  right  light,  without 
the  aid  of  her  mental  glasses. 

"  Now  let 's  begin,"  said  Chi,  rubbing  his  hands  in  glee 
as,  directly  after  supper,  he  piled  the  boxes  on  the  table 
while  March  laid  the  envelopes  in  their  proper  places 
before  each  member  of  the  family.  "  This  top  one  says 
'  Miss  Hazel  Clyde.'  Show  us  your  valentine,  Lady 
bird." 

"  They  're  violets  —  from  Jack,  I  know.  He  always 
sends  them.  What 's  yours,  Rose  ?  "  She  spoke  rather 
indifferently. 

"  Oh,  roses ! "  Rose  was  having  the  first  look  all  to 
herself.  "The  loveliest  things  I  have  ever  seen.  Look, 
Martie  ! "  Rose  held  up  the  mass  of  exquisite  bloom,  and 
the  children  oh'ed  and  ah'ed  at  the  sight. 

"  They  're  from  Mr.  Sherrill,"  said  Rose,  trying  to  speak 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  221 

in  a  most  common-place  tone,  but,  in  her  excitement,  fail 
ing  signally. 

"  They  are  lovely,"  Hazel  remarked,  shooting  an  indig 
nant  glance  at  Rose.  "  They're  just  like  the  ones  he  sent 
Miss  Seaton  last  year,  only  they  were  formed  into  a  great 
heart.  Papa  gave  me  one  just  like  it;  he  got  his  idea 
from  Jack." 

Rose  suddenly  put  down  the  flowers,  in  which  she  had 
buried  her  face  to  inhale  their  fragrance,  as  if  something 
had  stung  her. 

"  Mr.  Sherrill  is  very  impartial  with  his  favors,"  she 
said  in  a  tone  that  increased  the  pervading  chill  of  the 
domestic  atmosphere. 

"  Why,  Rose ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Blossom.  "  It  is  not 
like  you  to  receive  a  favor  so  ungraciously ;  you  've  never 
had  flowers  sent  you  before,  and  I  'in  sure  you  would 
never  have  them  again  if  the  donor  could  witness  your 
reception  of  them." 

"  I  don't  care  for  them  again,  thank  you,"  Rose  retorted 
with  flaming  cheeks ;  "  I  'd  give  more  for  this  of  yours, 
Chi  —  "  she  opened  a  huge  yellow  envelope,  and  took  from 
it  a  scarlet  cardboard  heart,  with  a  small,  white,  artificial 
rose  glued  to  the  centre  and  a  gilt  paper  arrow  transfixing 
both  rose  and  heart. 

Chi  hemmed  rather  awkwardly,  thinking:  "Beats  the 
Dutch  what's  got  into  Rose-pose  to-night.  I  ain't  ever 
known  her  to  treat  a  livin'  soul  so  shabby  as  that  in  all 
her  life.  Beats  all  what  gets  into  women  'n'  girls,  some 
times  ;  when  a  feller  thinks  he 's  doin'  'em  just  the  best 


222  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

turn  he  knows  how,  they  up  'n'  get  mad  with  him,  'n'  turn 
the  cold  shoulder,  'n'  upset  things  generally."  But  aloud 
he  said : 

"  I  'm  glad  it  pleases  you,  Rose.  Can't  most  always  tell 
when  it 's  goin'  to  please  a  girl  or  not.  I  suppose  Jack, 
now,  thought  you  'd  be  tickled  to  get  those  posies  just  in 
the  dead  of  winter.  They  don't  grow  round  here  on  our 
bushes.  What 's  in  the  other  box  ?  " 

"  Why ! "  Hazel  exclaimed,  laughing  rather  half-heart 
edly,  "  it 's  addressed  to  '  Miss  Maria-Ann  Simmons  '  -  —  and 
just  look,  Mother  Blossom !  See  what  that  dear  old  Jack 
has  sent  her !  He 's  just  too  dear  for  anything."  She 
added  emphatically ;  — "  I  'd  like  to  give  him  a  kiss  for 
thinking  of  that  poor  girl  all  alone  over  there  on  the 
Mountain.  I  don't  believe  she  ever  had  a  valentine  before. 
Look  !  Oh,  look  !  " 

She  took  out  of  the  many  layers  of  wadding  a  mass  of 
yellow  tulips,  their  closed  golden  cups  shining  in  the  lamp 
light  as  if  gilded  by  sunbeams. 

"  Sho  ! "  was  all  Chi  said,  leaning  nearer  to  examine  the 
beautiful  blossoms. 

"  You  '11  take  them  over  in  the  morning,  early,  won't 
you,  Chi  ?  "  said  Hazel,  replacing  them. 

"  First  thing,  Lady -bird ;  guess  you  're  right,  Rose, 
about  that  young  feller 's  bein'  'n  all-round  man  with  his 
favors.  Don't  seem  to  be  much  choice  between  you  and 
Marier-Ann,  'n'  that  Miss  Seaver.  Kind  of  a  toss-up,  hey, 
Rose-pose  ?  " 

But  Rose  was  too  busy  with  another  package  to  answer 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  223 

Chi.  She  grew  wildly  enthusiastic  over  the  calla  lilies 
that  Alan  Ford  had  sent  her,  and  caressed  their  white 
envelopes,  and  praised  their  pure  loveliness,  until  Hazel, 
growing  jealous  for  poor  Jack  and  his  discarded  gift,  rose 
to  put  the  neglected  beauties  in  water,  saying  as  she 
did  so : 

"  I  'm  sure,  Rose,  if  Jack  had  known  you  cared  so  much 
for  lilies,  he  would  have  sent  you  some  Easter  ones,  they  're 
out  now.  I  '11  tell  him  to  next  time." 

"  Hazel  !  "  Rose  burst  forth  indignantly,  "  do  you  mean 
to  tell  me  you  told  Mr.  Sherrill  to  send  me  these  flowers 
for  a  valentine  ?  " 

Then  Hazel,  stung  by  the  tone  and  the  words,  yielded 
to  temptation  —  for  it  had  been  the  last  straw.  "What 
if  I  did  ?  "  she  said  with  irritating  calm,  "  he  's  my  cousin. 
I  suppose  I  can  say  what  I  choose  to  him." 

Rose  answered  never  a  word ;  but,  rising,  took  the  La 
France  roses  from  the  pitcher  in  which  Hazel  had  just 
placed  them,  and,  going  over  to  the  fireplace,  deliberately 
cast  the  mass  of  delicate  pink  bloom  into  the  fire. 

Mrs.  Blossom  looked  both  puzzled  and  shocked ;  this  was 
wholly  unlike  Rose.  What  could  it  mean?  The  children 
were  too  awed  by  the  proceeding  to  speak  or  exclaim. 
March  looked  gravely  at  Hazel,  who  burst  into  tears  —  it 
was  such  an  insult  to  Jack !  —  and  rushed  into  her  bed 
room  and  shut  the  door. 

"  I  'm  going  to  bed ;  good-night,  Martie,"  said  Rose, 
quietly,  after  she  had  watched  the  last  leaf  shrivel  in  the 
flame,  and,  kissing  her  mother,  she  lighted  her  candle  and 


224  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

went  upstairs.  Mrs.  Blossom,  following  her  with  her 
eyes,  felt  that  she  had  lost  her  "  little  Rose "  in  that 
hour. 

March  looked  grave,  complained  of  feeling  tired,  and 
said  he  would  go  to  bed,  too,  as  to-morrow  was  the  last 
day  of  school  and  there  were  two  more  examinations  to 
take.  Budd  and  Cherry  kissed  their  mother  twice,  bade 
her  good-night  in  suppressed  tones  and  crept  upstairs. 
"It's  just  as  if  somebody  was  sick  in  the  house,"  said 
Cherry,  in  an  awed  voice.  Budd's  was  sepulchral :  — 

"  It 's  just  as  if  somebody  was  dead  and  all  the  flowers 
had  come  for  the  funeral." 

Across  the  dining-room  table,  loaded  with  boxes  and 
brilliant  with  valentines,  Chi  looked  at  Mrs.  Blossom,  and 
Mrs.  Blossom  looked  at  Chi.  The  whole  affair  was  so 
incomprehensible,  and  the  result  so  painfully  disagreeable, 
that,  for  a  while,  they  found  no  words  with  which  to  give 
expression  to  their  feelings.  Chi  broke  the  silence :  — 

"  Well !  I  wish  I  was  one  of  those  clairivoyants  they 
tell  about,  'n'  could  kind  of  see  into  the  meanin'  of  this 
flare-up  of  Rose-pose's.  Don't  seem  natural  for  Rose  to 
go  flyin'  off  at  a  tangent  that  way.  What 's  she  got  against 
him,  anyway  ?  He  's  about  as  likely  as  you  '11  find.  Beats 
me  ! "  Chi  leaned  both  elbows  on  the  table,  unmindful 
that  he  was  crushing  some  of  the  flowers,  sank  his  chin 
in  the  palms  of  his  hands  and  thought  hard  for  full  a 
minute. 

"  I  know  Hazel  and  Rose  have  had  some  little  trouble 
this  afternoon  —  the  first  quarrel  they  have  had  —  but 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  225 

Rose  is  too  old  to  allow  herself  to  lose  her  control  in  that 
way.  I  can't  imagine  what  made  her—  '  Mrs.  Blossom 
broke  off  suddenly,  for  Chi  had  raised  his  head  and  sent 
such  a  look  of  intelligence  across  the  table,  handing  her, 
as  he  did  so,  Jack  Sherrill's  card,  which  Rose  in  her  con 
fusion  had  neglected  to  read,  that,  in  a  flash,  something 
of  the  truth  was  revealed  to  Mrs.  Blossom. 

She  took  the  card.  On  the  back  was  written,  enclosed 
in  quotation  marks  :  — 

"  For  I  am  thine 
Whilst  the  stars  shall  shine, 
To  the  last  — to  the  last." 

"  O  Chi ! "  was  all  Mary  Blossom  said ;  but  the  tears 
filled  her  eyes,  and,  reaching  across  the  table,  her  hand  was 
clasped  in  Chi's  strong  one. 

"  I  wish  Ben  was  to  home,"  sighed  Chi,  so  lugubriously 
that  Mrs.  Blossom  laughed  through  her  tears. 

"  Oh,  it  is  n't  so  bad  as  that,  Chi.  Girls  will  be  girls,  and 
grow  up,  and  hearts  will  ache  even  when  we  're  young. 
We  won't  make  too  much  of  it.  I  don't  understand  the 
ins  and  outs  of  it,  but  I  do  know  Hazel  has  said  her 
family  thought  he  was  engaged  to  Miss  Seaton.  I  'in  sure 
I  've  thought  so  all  along,  and  it  never  occurred  to  me 
there  could  be  any  danger  for  Rose  under  the  circum 
stances.  The  mere  fact  of  his  name  being  connected  so 
closely  with  Miss  Seaton's  would  be  a  safeguard.  Then, 
too,  I  fear  he  is  spoiled  by  women  on  account  of  his 
riches." 

15 


226  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  I  don't  know  about  that  Miss  Seaver,  —  but  if  it 's  as 
you  say,  I  kind  of  wish  Rose  could  cut  her  out." 

"  Sh-sh,  Chi !  "   said  Mrs.  Blossom,  reprovingly. 

"  Well,  I  do,"  Chi  retorted  with  some  warmth.  "  She 
ain't  fit  to  tie  Rose's  old  berryin'  shoes,  'n'  I  saw  her 
lookin'  at  her  feet  that  day  we  was  sellin'  berries  down  to 
Barton's  to  the  tavern,  'n'  snickerin'  so  mean  like,  'n'  Rose 
just  showed  her  grit  — •  'n'  I  wish  she  'd  show  it  again  'n' 
cut  her  out.  I  do,  by  George  Washin'ton ! "  Chi  rose 
up  in  his  wrath,  lighted  his  lantern,  and  started  for  the 
shed.  At  the  door  he  turned :  — 

"  I  wish  Ben  was  to  home,"  he  said  again.  "  There  's 
goin'  to  be  the  biggest  kind  of  a  snow-down  before  long, 
'n'  he  '11  get  blocked  on  the  road,  sure  as  blazes." 

"  He  '11  be  back  in  two  days,  at  the  most,  Chi ;  I  would  n't 
worry." 

"  I  ain't  worryin' ;  I  'm  just  sayin'  I  wish  he  was  to 
home,"  repeated  Chi,  doggedly,  and  shut  the  door. 

Mrs.  Blossom  smiled.  She  knew  Chi's  crotchets. 
When  there  was  any  disturbance  of  the  family  peace,  Chi 
was  apt  to  be  depressed,  and  sometimes  despondent.  She 
put  away  the  flowers  in  the  cold  pantry,  smiling  as  she  tied 
up  Maria-Ann's  box : 

"  He  is  universal,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  I  know  it  irri 
tated  Rose  to  be  classed  with  her  and  Miss  Seaton ;  but 
things  will  work  around  right  with  time.  I  can  trust 
to  Rose's  common-sense.  —  Not  a  prayer  to-night !  "  she 
added  thoughtfully.  "  Well,  we  '11  make  it  up  to-morrow." 
She  took  up  the  prize  books.  "  That  dear  March  !  What 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  227 

a  manly  fellow  he  Is  getting  to  be  —  and  so  handsome.  I 
wonder  —  "  here  Mary  Blossom  checked  herself,  laughing 
softly.  "  Goodness !  if  Ben  were  here  what  a  goose  he 
would  think  me  —  a  regular  old  Mother  Goose  —  "  And 
again  she  laughed  as  she  put  out  the  light. 


XX 

SNOW-BOUND 

THEY  were  all  on  the  porch  the  next  morning  to  see 
March  off.  It  was  not  so  very  cold,  but  there  was  a 
marked  chill  in  the  air  and  the  sky  was  leaden. 

"  It 's  my  last  day,  mother,  then  vacation  for  two  weeks. 
Hooray ! "  He  leaped  into  the  saddle,  and  Fleet  reared 
gently  to  show  her  approval. 

"  Don't  you  get  out  a  little  earlier  to-day,  March  ?  "  said 
his  mother,  looking  up  at  the  leaden  sky.  "  I  'm  afraid  it 's 
going  to  snow  heavily.  Promise  me  not  to  start  from 
Barton's  if  the  storm  is  a  hard  one ;  you  can  stay  at  the 
inn  or  at  the  principal's.  I  would  rather  you  remained 
away  from  home  two  days,  or  over  Sunday,  than  to  have 
you  attempt  the  Mountain  in  too  severe  a  storm." 

"  I  '11  be  careful,  mother." 

"  Better  give  your  promise  to  your  mother,  March ;  she  '11 
feel  better  'bout  you  're  not  startin'  out,"  said  Chi. 

"  I  promise,  little  Mother  Blossom."  He  threw  himself 
off  the  horse,  and  gave  her  another  kiss  ;  "  I  would  n't  go 
to-day  except  for  the  exams.  —  I  can't  miss  them." 

"  Good  luck,  dear,"  said  his  mother,  and  her  eyes  fol 
lowed  the  horse  and  rider  down  the  Mountain. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  229 

"  I  '11  go  over  the  first  thing  'n'  give  them  posies  to 
Marier-Ann,  'n'  then  I  '11  make  tracks  for  home,  'n'  get  my 
snow-shed  up  before  it  begins  to  come  down." 

k'  Do  you  think  we  shall  need  it  ?  " 

"  Sure  's  fate,"  replied  Chi,  laconically,  and  went  into  the 
barn  to  harness  Bess. 

It  was  noon  before  Chi  had  set  up  his  snow-shed,  a  long, 
low,  wooden  tunnel,  which  he  had  manufactured  to  con 
nect  the  woodshed  door  with  a  side  door  of  the  barn.  By 
means  of  this  he  was  enabled,  in  unusually  heavy  storms, 
to  communicate  with  the  barn  and  attend  to  the  stock 
without  "  shovelling  out." 

It  was  about  three  in  the  afternoon  when  the  first  flakes 
began  to  fall,  or  rather  to  "  spit,"  as  Chi  expressed  it,  and 
the  snow  fell  intermittently  and  lightly  until  four,  when 
there  was  a  sudden  change  of  wind.  It  veered  to  the 
north-east,  and  blast  after  blast,  charged  with  icy  particles, 
hurled  itself  against  the  Mountain.  Within  half  an  hour 
it  was  almost  as  dark  as  at  midnight,  and  the  snow  swept 
in  drifting  clouds  over  woodlands  and  pasture.  When 
the  wind  ceased  for  a  moment,  white,  soft  avalanches 
descended  upon  farmhouse,  barn,  and  mountain- road,  until, 
by  six  o'clock,  the  road  was  impassable  and  the  drifts  at  the 
back  of  the  house  a  foot  above  the  bedroom  windows.  Chi 
had  made  all  snug  for  the  night. 

"  This  beats  anything  I  ever  saw,  Mis'  Blossom.  I  'm 
mighty  glad  Ben  ain't  comin'  home  to-day,  'n'  that  March 
gave  you  the  promise  to  stay  at  Barton's  if  it  stormed 
hard." 


230  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  You  don't  think  he  would  venture  to  start,  do  you, 
Chi  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Blossom,  trying  not  to  appear  anxious 
for  the  sake  of  the  others. 

"  Bless  you,  no  ;  "  was  Chi 's  hearty  response.     "  March 
has  got  too  level  a  head  to  risk  himself  V  Fleet  in  such  a 
storm  —  it 's  a  regular  howler  of  a  blizzard.     If  he   did 
start,"   he  added,  "  he  'd  go  in  somewheres  on  the  road  - 
he  couldn't  get  far." 

After  tea  there  was  no  settling  down  to  the  cosey  even 
ing  pastimes  or  employments.  If  such  a  thing  could  be, 
the  storm  seemed  to  increase  in  severity.  The  wind 
struck  the  house  at  times  with  terrific  force ;  the  inter 
mittent  drift  of  snow  and  ice  against  the  window  panes 
startled  the  inmates  of  the  long-room  like  the  rattle  of 
small  shot.  Chi  had  put  out  the  fire  in  the  fireplace  before 
supper,  for  the  wind  drove  flame  and  ashes  out  into  the 
room. 

Again  and  again  Mrs.  Blossom  went  to  the  windows  — 
first  one  then  another,  and  pressed  her  face  close  to  the 
pane ;  but  they  were  plastered  so  thick  with  snow  that 
her  efforts  to  see  into  the  night  were  fruitless.  Chi  sat 
by  the  kitchen  stove,  which  he  had  filled  with  wood.  His 
boots  rested  on  the  fender,  and,  apparently,  he  was  indif 
ferent  to  the  storm.  But,  in  reality,  not  the  creak  of  a 
beam,  not  the  springing  of  a  board,  not  an  unwonted 
sound  within  or  without  the  house  escaped  his  notice. 

In  marked  contrast  to  Chi's  apparent  apathy  was  Tell's 
restlessness.  Since  six  o'clock  he  had  shown  signs  of 
uneasiness.  With  strides,  heavy  and  long,  the  huge  beast 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  231 

paced  up  and  down  the  long-room.  Sometimes  he  followed 
Mrs.  Blossom  to  the  window,  and,  sitting  down  on  his 
haunches  beside  her,  rested  his  nose  on  the  window  sill 
and  gazed  at  the  whitened  panes.  At  others  he  took  his 
stand  beside  Chi  and  looked  into  his  face,  their  eyes  meet 
ing  on  a  level  as  the  man  sat  and  the  dog  stood.  The 
dog  looked  as  if  he  were  questioning  him  dumbly. 

As  the  evening  wore  on  the  dog's  pace  grew  more  rapid, 
more  uneven  ;  his  tail  waved  in  a  jerky,  excited  manner. 
At  last  he  lay  down  by  the  shed  door,  and,  placing  his 
nose  on  the  threshold,  gave  vent  to  a  long,  low,  half-stifled 
moan.  At  the  sound  Chi  brought  down  his  heels  and  the 
tipped  chair-legs  with  a  thump,  and  started  to  his  feet. 
Mrs.  Blossom  turned  to  him  with  a  white  face,  and  Rose 
cried  out :  — 

"  Oh,  Chi !  What  is  the  matter  with  Tell  ?  He  never 
acted  this  way  before." 

"  Don't  know,"  said  Chi,  shortly ;  "  dumb  beasts  are 
curious  creatures.  Guess  he  don't  like  the  storm.  I  '11 
go  out,  Mis'  Blossom,  'n'  see  if  the  stock  's  all  right.  Kind 
of  looks  as  if  Tell  was  givin'  us  a  warnin'." 

"  Oh,  Chi,  don't  go  through  the  tunnel  now,"  cried  Mrs. 
Blossom,  all  the  pent-up  anxiety  finding  expression  in  her 
voice. 

Chi  manufactured  a  laugh:  "That's  all  safe,  Mis' 
Blossom.  I  chained  it  and  roped  it  down,  both  —  it  can't 
get  away,  'n'  the  snow  can't  crush  it.  Don't  you  worry- 
about  me.  I  '11  be  back  inside  of  fifteen  minutes."  He 
took  his  lantern  from  the  shelf  over  the  sink :  —  "  Get  up, 


232  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Tell."  The  dog  rose,  but,  as  Chi  opened  the  door,  he  tried 
to  push  past  him.  Chi  crowded  him  with  his  leg  :  —  "  No 
you  don't,  old  feller !  there  ain't  room  only  for  just  one  of 
us  to-night.  Lay  down  !  " 

And  Tell  lay  down,  with  his  nose  on  his  paws,  and  both 
nose  and  paws  pressed  close  to  the  crack  on  the  threshold. 
Another  long  crescendo  moan,  that,  at  the  last,  sounded 
like  a  sharp  wail,  filled  the  long-room,  and  Budd  and 
Cherry  clung  to  their  mother  in  terror. 

"  You  must  go  to  bed,  children,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom, 
her  face  white  as  the  snow  on  the  window  panes,  but  with 
a  voice  of  forced  calm.  "  When  you  're  asleep,  you  won't 
hear  all  this  trouble  the  storm  is  raising  to-night." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  sleep  upstairs  alone  without  March, 
Martie,"  protested  Budd,  trying  to  be  brave,  but  showing 
his  fear. 

"You  can  sleep  in  Hazel's  room  to-night,  Budd,  and 
Cherry  can  get  into  my  bed  and  sleep  with  me." 

The  twins  looked  relieved.  "  Oh,  that 's  different, 
Martie,"  said  Budd,  with  a  grateful  look.  Cherry  begged 
for  a  little  cotton  wool  to  stuff  in  her  ears :  — "  Then  I 
can't  hear  Tell  and  this  awful  noise."  A  novel  idea,  which 
Budd  at  once  adopted  and  put  into  practice.  Their  mother 
looked  relieved  when  they  were  safely  bestowed  in  their 
new  quarters. 

About  ten  minutes  afterwards  they  heard  Chi's  steps  in 
the  shed.  Then  the  door  opened  slowly,  as  he  shoved  Tell 
aside.  When  he  entered  the  room  Mrs.  Blossom  gave  one 
look  at  his  face. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  233 

"  Oh,  Chi,  what  has  happened ! "  She  cried  out  as  if 
hurt. 

Chi's  face  showed  grayish  white  and  drawn  in  the  lamp 
light.  His  hand  shook  a  little  as  he  reached  for  a  second 
lantern,  turning  his  back  on  the  three  terrified  faces. 

"  Horse  stalled,  that 's  all.  Had  a  tough  tussle  to  get 
him  round,  but  he  's  all  right  now."  His  voice  sounded 
hoarse. 

"  Was  it  Bob  or  Bess  ?  "  asked  Rose. 

Chi,  without  answering,  turned  quickly  to  Tell,  who 
was  pressing  him  nearly  off  his  feet,  and  at  the  same  time, 
lashing  his  tail  as  if  in  fury. 

"  What  ails  you,  anyway?  "  said  Chi,  roughly.  "  D'  you 
want  to  get  out  ?  " 

For  answer  the  dog  rushed  to  the  front  door  that  opened 
on  the  porch,  rose  on  his  hind  legs,  stemmed  his  powerful 
forepaws  against  the  panels  and,  throwing  back  his  massive 
head,  sent  forth  from  his  deep  throat  a  roar  that  seemed 
to  shake  the  rafters. 

"  Mis'  Blossom,"  Chi's  voice  shook  and  his  hand 
trembled  till  the  glass  globe  of  the  lantern  tinkled  in  the 
wire  frame,  "  I  'm  goin'  to  let  him  out,  'n'  I  'm  goin'  to 
follow  on  —  there  's  trouble  somewhere  on  the  Mountain, 
'n'  I  'm  goin'  to  find  out  where  't  is." 

All  three  cried  out,  protesting,  entreating,  praying  him 
to  desist.  But  Chi  shook  his  head. 

"  I  tell  you  I  've  got  to  go,  Mary  Blossom  "  —  Chi  had 
never  called  her  that  but  once  before,  and  Mrs.  Blossom, 
recalling  the  time,  felt  her  heart  as  lead  within  her  — 


234  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"you're  brave,  —  brave  as  a  woman  can  be;  don't  say 
nothin',  but  let  me  go.  Have  plenty  of  hot  water  "n' 
flannels,  'n'  some  spirits  ready  'gainst  I  come  back  — 

"  Lady-bird,  give  me  the  dog  collar  with  the  bell  you 
gave  Tell  last  Chris'mus ;  'n'  Molly  Stark,  fill  your 
mother's  hot  water-bag  —  'n'  hurry  up  ;  'n'  Mis'  Blossom, 
give  me  Ben's  brandy  flask,  he  didn't  take  it  with  him." 

Chi,  while  issuing  these  orders,  was  strapping  down  his 
trousers  over  his  long  boots ;  then  he  poured  out  a  brim 
ming  cup  of  hot  water,  and  mixed  with  it  some  of  the 
brandy  from  the  flask.  He  put  the  collar  on  Tell,  the  bell 
ringing  loud  and  clear  with  every  movement.  He  opened 
the  door;  the  dog  bounded  out  into  the  night.  Chi  fol 
lowed  him,  a  coil  of  rope  around  his  neck,  a  shovel  over 
one  shoulder  with  a  lantern  suspended  from  the  handle, 
and  in  his  hand  a  second  lantern.  The  hot-water  bag  he 
had  put  beneath  his  sweater,  and  a  leathern  belt  girded 
him. 

So  equipped  he  went  out  into  the  drifting  snows  and 
the  night  of  storm.  The  terrified  women  were  left  alone. 

"Mother,  oh,  mother!  "  cried  Rose,  wringing  her  hands, 
"  I  know  it 's  something  dreadful ;  Chi  would  never  look 
that  way." 

Mary  Blossom  could  not  answer.  Her  silence  was 
prayer.  It  was  all  of  which  she  was  capable  at  that  time. 

"  I  don't  know  what  the  matter  was  in  the  barn,  mother," 
again  cried  Rose,  in  an  agony  of  fear.  "  Chi  did  n't  tell 
us  all,  I  'm  sure.  Let  me  go  through  the  tunnel  and  find 
out,  do,  mother ! " 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  235 

"Oh,  Rose,  I  can't — I  can't!"  Mrs.  Blossom  spoke 
under  her  breath. 

"  Please,  mother.  It 's  all  safe,  and  the  wind  has  gone 
down  a  little  since  Chi  went ;  let  me  go  —  I  can't  rest  till 
I  do.  You  can  hold  the  light  at  the  shed  door  end  and  I 
won't  be  gone  but  a  minute  or  two.  I  '11  take  the  dark 
lantern  with  me  —  Oh,  mother  !  do,  do  —  !  " 

"  Well,  Rose,  perhaps  it 's  for  the  best.  I  '11  watch  you 
through." 

"  May  I  watch,  too  ?  "  asked  Hazel,  eagerly. 

"  No,  dear,  I  want  you  to  stay  here  in  case  the  children 
should  wake.  Come,  Rose." 

They  were  gone  but  a  few  minutes ;  then  Mrs.  Blossom 
came  in  followed  by  her  daughter.  The  girl's  teeth  were 
chattering ;  she  looked  blue  and  pinched. 

"  What  did  you  find,  Rose  ?  "  Her  mother's  voice  was 
scarce  above  a  whisper. 

"  I  found  Fleet  !  " 

The  two  women  sat  down  on  the  settle,  holding  each 
other  close;  and  the  wind  rose  again  in  its  fury. 

Wrapping  a  heavy  shawl  about  her  Hazel  crept  away 
upstairs  to  the  back  garret  and  the  window  overlooking 
the  woods'-road,  which  formed  the  approach  to  the  house. 
There  was  a  little  snow-drift  beneath  it  where  the  flakes 
had  sifted  through ;  but  the  wind  was  felt  less  severely  on 
that  side  of  the  house.  She  opened  the  window  a  few 
inches,  propping  it  on  a  corn  cob  she  had  stepped  upon ; 
then,  kneeling,  she  put  her  ear  to  the  opening  and  strained 
her  hearing  in  every  lull  of  the  storm. 


236  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

At  last  —  she  knew  not  how  long  she  had  listened  — 
she  heard  Tell's  deep  roar.  It  came  muffled,  but  distinct. 
She  scarce  trusted  her  ears ;  but  again  she  heard  it,  and, 
this  time,  in  a  dead  silence,  she  caught  the  sound  of  the 
bell.  Surely  Tell  was  nearing  the  house.  She  ran  down 
stairs. 

"  They  're  coming  !  "  she  cried,  hardly  realizing  what 
she  said  in  her  excitement.  Mrs.  Blossom  and  Rose  leaped 
to  their  feet.  They  threw  open  the  door. 

"Chi!  Chi!"  they  called  out  into  the  night.  There 
was  a  joyous  bark  for  answer  —  then  a  groan,  and  Chi 
staggered  across  the  snow-laden  porch  and  fell  with  his 
heavy  burden  on  the  threshold. 

At  midnight  the  wind  went  down,  but  the  snow  con 
tinued  to  fall.  All  the  next  day  it  fell  steadily,  but  at 
sunset  it  ceased,  and  a  young  moon  looked  over  the  shoul 
der  of  Mount  Hunger  upon  an  unbroken  white  coverlet 
that,  in  some  places,  was  drifted  to  the  depth  of  twenty 
feet. 

There  was  twilight  in  Aunt  Tryphosa's  little  cabin 
"  over  eastwards,"  for  the  snow  was  piled  to  the  eaves, 
and  the  tulips  furnished  their  only  sunshine  for  two  days. 

There  was  consternation  at  Hunger-ford,  for  the  family 
were  cut  off  from  their  neighbors  and  the  outside  world 
of  letters  and  papers. 

There  were  councils  at  Lemuel's  and  the  Spillkinses'  — 
for  how  could  they  gather  their  forces  to  break  out  the 
Mountain  ? 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  237 

There  were  heavy  hearts  and  reddened  eyelids  in  the 
farmhouse,  for  March,  rescued  by  Chi  and  revived  by 
vigorous  treatment,  had  succumbed  to  the  exposure  and 
chill,  and  lay  unconscious  in  fever  —  and  no  help  at 
hand. 

Chi,  spent  to  exhaustion,  had  rallied  at  midnight,  but 
knew  that  it  was  beyond  human  powers  to  attempt  to 
reach  Barton's  or  even  Lemuel  Wood's,  their  next  neigh 
bor,  through  the  drifts. 

So  they  waited,  helpless  —  one  day,  two  days.  On  the 
second  day  the  white  expanse  showed  no  tracks.  Then 
March  began  to  wander,  and  clutch  his  breast,  where  his 
mother  had  found  the  telegram,  which  his  father  had  sent 
to  him  from  Ogdensburg  :  — 

"  Heavy  blizzard.  Roads  blocked.  Tell  mother  at  once. 
Don't  worry." 

Chi  walked  the  house  night  and  day  in  his  misery  of 
helplessness.  At  last,  on  the  third  day,  looking  east 
wards  he  descried  a  black  blotch  on  the  white,  —  it  was 
a  four-ox  team  breaking  out  from  the  Fords'.  Later  in 
the  day,  when  the  men  were  within  two  hundred  yards 
of  the  house,  he  saw  another  black  spot  on  the  lower 
road.  It  was  the  Mill  Settlement  road-team,  with  a  full 
equipment  of  men  and  tools,  to  cut  a  way  through  the 
drifts. 

Soon  there  was  help  and  to  spare.  Alan  Ford  was  rid 
ing  down  the  narrow  way  between  high  walls  of  glittering 
white  to  Barton's  for  aid,  and  bringing  back  telegrams  of 
anxious  inquiry  from  Mr.  Blossom  and  Mr.  Clyde.  On 


238  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

the  fourth  day,  the  blockade  was  raised,  and  the  south 
bound  express  to  Barton's  River  brought  Mr.  Blossom 
from  the  north,  and  another  train  brought  Mr.  Clyde  from 
the  south.  Two  days  after  all  the  Lost  Nation  knew  that 
March  would  live. 


XXI 

A   LITTLE   DAUGHTER    OF   THE   EICH 

IT  was  days  before  March  himself  was  aware  of  that 
fact. 

Budd  and  Cherry  were  at  the  Fords'.  May  was  with 
Aunt  Tryphosa  and  Miss  Alton  at  Lemuel  Wood's. 
Maria-Ann  had  come  over  to  help  Mrs.  Blossom  with  the 
work,  and  Chi  had  taken  care  of  the  stock.  Rose  and  her 
mother  watched  and  waited  in  the  sick  room,  relieved  on 
alternate  nights  by  Mr.  Blossom  and  Chi. 

The  great  storm  was  a  thing  of  the  past.  The  sun  shone 
in  a  deep  blue  heaven,  and  the  white  world  of  the  Moun 
tain  showed  daily  life  and  movement.  The  teamsters 
were  at  work  loading  the  sledges  with  logs,  and  the 
ponderous  drags  squeaked  and  grated  as  they  slid  down 
the  crisping  highway. 

A  crow  cawed  loudly  on  the  first  of  March,  and  the 
hens  came  out  to  find  a  warm  nook  in  the  south-east 
corner  of  the  barn-yard,  where  a  heap  of  sodden  straw  was 
thawing. 

All  in  the  farmhouse  were  rejoicing,  for  March  had 
spoken  in  his  weakness  —  a  few  words,  but  clear,  coherent, 
for  the  frost  and  fever,  both,  had  left  his  brain.  When  he 
spoke  the  second  time  it  was  to  ask  for  Chi ;  and  Chi  had 


240  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

tiptoed  into  the  room  in  his  stocking-feet  and  laid  his 
hand  on  March's  thin,  white  one,  gulped  down  the  tears 
and  the  rising  sob  that  was  choking  him,  and  —  spoke  of 
the  weather ! 

The  next  day  March  turned  to  his  mother,  who  was 
sitting  by  the  bed,  brooding  him  with  her  great  love, 
and  asked  suddenly,  but  in  a  clear  and  much  stronger 
voice : 

"  Where  's  Hazel  ?  " 

Mrs.  Blossom  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then  spoke 
quietly :  —  "  Hazel  is  at  home  with  her  father  for  a  few 
weeks." 

March  turned  his  face  to  the  wall  and  was  silent  for 
several  hours. 

When  he  was  stronger  Mrs.  Blossom  gave  him  the  little 
note  Hazel  had  left  for  him,  and,  with  mother-tact,  knowing 
March's  reserve  of  nature,  went  out  of  the  room  while  he 
read  it.  She  saw  no  signs  of  it  when  she  returned  and 
asked  no  questions,  but  March's  gray  eyes  spoke  a  lan 
guage  for  which  there  was  but  one  interpretation.  With 
his  rare  smile,  he  held  out  his  hand  for  his  mother's,  and 
clasped  it  closely. 

Soon  he  was  able  to  be  up  and  about,  and  the  children 
Avere  again  at  home.  Life  in  the  farmhouse  resumed  its 
old  course  —  but  with  a  difference.  Just  what  it  was  no 
one  attempted  to  define.  But  each  felt  it  in  his  own  way. 
March  was  more  gentle  with  Budd  and  Cherry,  more 
often  with  his  mother  and  Chi,  more  companionable  for 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  241 

his  father.  Rose  was  quieter,  but,  if  possible,  more  loving 
towards  all.  Budd  was  at  times  wholly  disconsolate,  and 
wasted  sheets  of  his  best  Christmas  note-paper  in  writing 
letters  to  Hazel  which  were  never  sent. 

Chi  went  oftener  to  the  small  house  "over  eastwards," 
where  he  was  sure  of  willing  ears  and  sympathetic  hearts 
when  he  unburdened  himself  in  regard  to  his  "  Lady-bird.'' 

"  Fact  is,"  he  said  to  Maria- Ann,  as  she  stood  with  her 
apron  over  her  head  watching  him  plough  their  garden 
plot  (that  was  his  annual  neighborly  offering),  "  she  's  left 
a  great  hole  in  that  house,  'n'  there  is  n't  one  of  us  that 
don't  know  it  'n'  feel  it ;  —  kind  of  empty  like  in  your 
heart,  you  know,  just  as  your  stomach  feels  when  you  've 
ploughed  an  acre  of  sidlin'  ground,  before  breakfast  —  Get 
up,  Bess,  whoa  —  back! — you  don't  hear  that  laugh  of 
hers  in  the  barn,  nor  out  in  the  field,  nor  up  in  the  pas 
ture  ;  'n'  you  don't  see  those  great  eyes  lookiri'  up  at  you 
when  you  're  harnessin',  nor  peekin'  round  the  corner  of 
the  stall  to  see  if  you  're  most  through  milkin'.  'N'  you 
don't  hear  a  fiddle  makin'  it  lively  after  supper,  'n'  the 
children  ain't  danced  once  in  the  barn  this  spring."  Chi 
sighed  heavily. 

"Don't  Mr.  Ford  go  over  there  pretty  often?"  queried 
Maria-Ann.  "  I  see  him  gallopin'  by  two  or  three  times 
a  week." 

"  Well,  what  if  you  do  ?  "  Chi  answered  grumpily,  much 
to  Maria-Ann's  surprise.     "  He  can't  fiddle  the  way  Lady 
bird  does,  'n'  they  all  sit  'n'  jabber  some  kind  of  lingo  — 
French,  they  call  it,  but  I  call  it,  good,  straight  Canuck  - 

16 


242  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

'n'  act  as  if  they  were  at  a  party,  —  Rose,  'n'  Miss  Alton, 
'n'  the  whole  of  'em.  'T  ain't  much  company  for  me.  I 
get  off  to  bed  about  dark.  'N'  the  worst  of  it  is,  when  he 
isn't  to  our  house,  they're  all  to  his  —  Come  around!" 
Chi  jerked  the  reins,  to  Bess's  resentful  surprise. 

'•  They  say  he 's  payin'  attention  to  Rose,"  ventured 
Maria-Ann,  her  eyes  following  the  furrow,  which  was 
running  not  quite  true. 

"  They  're  a  parcel  of  fools,"  growled  Chi,  eyeing  the 
furrow  with  a  dissatisfied  air,  "  Rose  need  n't  look  Alan 
Ford's  way  for  attention.  She  can  have  all  she  wants 
most  anywheres.  —  Get  up,  Bess !  what  you  backin'  that 
way  for!  — 'n'  folks  tongues  can  be  measured  by  the 
furlong  'twixt  here  and  Barton's." 

"  Well,  there  ain't  any  harm  in  Rose's  havin'  attention, 
Chi,"  said  Maria-Ann  with  some  spirit,  and  ready  to  stand 
up  for  her  sex. 

"  Did  n't  say  there  was,"  retorted  Chi,  in  mollified  tones. 
"  There  ain't  no  more  harm  in  Rose's  havin'  attention  than 
in  your  havin'  it." 

"  Me  !  "  exclaimed  Maria- Ann,  pleasantly  surprised  out 
of  her  momentary  resentment.  "  I  ain't  had  any  chance 
to  have  any." 

"  Ain't  you  ?"  said  Chi,  busying  himself  with  the  plough 
preparatory  to  leaving.  "  Well,  that  ain't  any  sign  you 
won't  have  —  Get  along,  Bess  !  —  I  '11  leave  this  plough 
here  till  to-morrow;  I  ain't  drawn  those  last  two  furrers 
straight,  'n'  I  've  got  too  much  pride  to  have  any  man 
see  that  —  Malachi  Graham,  his  mark. — •  No,  sir-ee,"  said 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  243 

Chi,  emphatically,  "straight  or  starve  is  my  motto  every 
time,  just  you  remember  that,  Marier-Ann  Simmons." 

"  I  will,  Chi,"  laughed  Maria-Ann,  and  went  back  to 
her  washing,  singing  joyfully  to  her  rubbing  accompani 
ment:  - 

"  Come,  sinners  all,  repent  in  time, 

The  Judgment  Day  is  dawning; 
Sun,  moon,  and  stars  to  earth  incline, 
The  trumpet  sounds  a  warning." 

Meanwhile  letters  were  coming  to  every  member  of  the 
family  from  Hazel.  As  March  regained  his  strength  there 
came  as  special  gifts  to  him,  books  and  magazines,  and  from 
time  to  time  a  beautiful  photograph  of  an  old-world  cathe 
dral  —  Canterbury,  or  York ;  a  stately  castle  like  War 
wick,  or  Heidelberg;  a  peasant's  chalet,  or  an  English 
cottage  to  gladden  his  artist  soul  and  eye,  and  transform 
the  walls  of  his  room  into  dwelling-places  for  his  ideals. 

"  Mother,"  he  said  rather  wistfully  to  Mrs.  Blossom, 
on  the  first  May  day  as  they  sat  together  under  the  old 
Wishing-Tree,  talking  over  the  plans  for  his  future,  "  how 
can  I  go  to  work  to  make  it  all  come  true  ?  " 

He  held  in  his  hand  a  large  photograph  of  the  interior 
of  Cologne  Cathedral,  which  Hazel  had  given  him. 

"  There  are  many  ways,  dear,  which  are  most  unexpect 
edly  opened  at  times.  No  boy  with  health  and  persever 
ance  has  much  to  fear." 

"  But,  mother,  father  had  both,  and  he  was  n't  able  to 
go  through  college.  He  told  me  all  about  it  the  other 
day,  and  how  he  had  missed  it  all  through  his  life." 


244  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  I  know,  March,  father  failed  in  attaining  to  that  which 
was  his  great  desire,  but  he  succeeded  so  immeasurably 
in  another  direction,  that  I  think,  sometimes,  it  must  have 
been  all  for  the  best." 

"  Why,  mother,  father  is  poor  now  —  how  do  you  mean 
he  has  succeeded  ?  " 

"  My  dear  boy,  you  are  only  in  your  seventeenth  year, 
and  I  don't  know  that  I  can  make  it  plain  to  you  because 
you  are  young ;  but  when  your  father  conquered  every 
selfish  tendency  in  him,  put  aside  what  he  had  striven  so 
hard  for  and  what  was  just  within  his  reach,  and  turned 
about  and  did  the  duty  that  the  time  demanded  of  him ;  — 
when  he  took  his  dead  father's  place  as  provider  for  the 
family,  and,  by  his  own  exertions,  placed  his  mother  and 
sisters  beyond  want,  before  he  even  allowed  himself  to  tell 
me  he  loved  me,  he  proved  himself  a  successful  man ;  for 
he  developed,  in  such  hard  circumstances,  such  nobility  of 
character,  that  he  is  rich  in  love  and  esteem,  —  and  that, 
March,  and  only  that,  is  true  wealth." 

"  I  see  what  you  mean,  mother,  but  it  does  n't  help  me 
to  see  how  I  'm  to  get  through  college,  and  get  the  train 
ing  I  need  in  my  profession."  March  uttered  the  last 
word  with  pride.  "  There  is  so  much  a  man  has  to  have 
for  that.  Look  at  that  now,"  he  continued,  holding  up 
the  photograph ;  "  I  need  all  that,  and  that  means  Europe, 
and  Europe  means  money  and  time,  and  where  is  it  all 
to  come  from?" 

His  mother  smiled  at  the  despairing  tone.  "  As  for 
time,  March,  you  are  only  in  your  seventeenth  year.  That 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  245 

means  ten  years  before  you  can  begin  to  work  in  your 
profession;  and  as  for  the  means — "  she  hesitated  —  "I 
think  it  is  time  to  tell  you  something  I  Ve  been  keeping 
and  rejoicing  over  these  last  two  weeks."  She  drew  a 
letter  from  her  dress-waist  and  handed  it  to  him.  "  Read 
this,  dear,  and  tell  me  what  you  think  of  it."  Wonder 
ing,  March  took  it  and  read :  - 

HAWKING  VALLEY,  NORTH  CAROLINA, 
April  15,  1897. 

MY  DEAR  MRS.  BLOSSOM,  —  Just  a  year  ago  to-day  I  sent 
my  one  child  to  you,  trusting  the  judgment  of  my  dear  friend, 
Doctor  Heath,  in  a  matter  which  he  felt  concerned  the  future 
welfare  of  my  daughter.  My  home  has  been  very  lonely  with 
out  her.  You,  as  a  parent,  can  know  something  of  what  this 
separation  has  entailed. 

It  seemed  wise  to  me.  and  I  know  you  concurred  in  my 
opinion,  to  take  her  away  from  the  conditions,  in  which  she 
has  thriven  so  wonderfully,  while  you  were  burdened,  both  in 
heart  and  hands,  by  such  a  critical  illness  as  your  son's.  The 
result  confirms  the  wisdom  of  my  action,  for  March's  convales 
cence  has  been  slow  and  long;  I  am  thankful  to  be  assured  it 
is  sure.  The  burden  of  an  extra  member  in  your  family  at  this 
time  would,  in  the  long  run,  prove  too  heavy  for  you. 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  I  appreciate  what  you  have  done  for 
Hazel.  I  have  no  words  to  express  it.  She  returns  to  me  full 
of  life  and  joy,  with  no  apparent  unwillingness  to  take  up  her 
life  again  with  me,  which  must  seem  dull  to  her  in  contrast  to 
that  which  she  had  with  you.  Yet  I  know  in  her  loyal  little 
heart  she  belongs  to  you,  is  a  part  of  your  family  henceforth  — 
and  I  am  glad  to  know  it  is  so,  for  she  needs,  and  will  need,  as 
a  young  girl,  your  motherly  influence  at  all  times. 

I  'm  not  taking  her  away  from  you  for  good.    Oh,  no  !    That 


246  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

would  be  her  loss  as  well  as  mine ;  but  I  am  testing  her  a  little. 
I  have  said  I  had  no  words  with  which  adequately  to  express 
my  gratitude.  I  am  your  debtor  for  my  child's  physical  well- 
being —  for  much  else  which  I  do  not  find  it  easy  to  define. 
Will  you  allow  me  to  make  some  compensation  for  your  year 
of  devotion?  I  do  not  care  what  form  it  take,  providing  you 
will  permit  me  to  try  to  discharge  something  of  the  debt  —  the 
whole  can  never  be  repaid.  Will  you  not  let  me  send  that 
splendid  son  of  yours  through  college  ?  and  give  him  two  years 
of  Europe  afterwards?  That  future  profession  of  his  has 
always  been  of  great  interest  to  me.  If  the  boy  is  too  proud, 
as  I  suspect  is  the  case,  to  accept  the  necessary  amount  other 
than  as  a  loan,  make  it  plain  to  him  that  I  will  even  yield  a 
point  there  —  a  pretty  bad  state  of  affairs  for  me  as  a  debtor 
to  find  myself  in.  If  he  won't  do  this  for  me  —  won't  Rose 
help  me  out  by  permitting  me  to  aid  her  in  cultivating  that 
voice  of  hers?  I  know  your  magnanimity,  and  depend  upon 
you  to  help  me  in  this. 

Hazel  does  not  know  I  am  writing  to  you,  or  she  would  send 
loving  messages. 

My  kindest  regards  to  Mr.  Blossom,  with  hearty  congratula 
tions  for  March,  and  all  sorts  of  neighborly  remembrances  for 
all  others  of  the  Lost  Nation. 

Sincerely  your  friend, 

JOHN  CURTIS  CLYDE. 
To  Mrs.  Benjamin  Blossom. 

"  Oh,  mother  !  " 

A  wave  of  crimson  surged  into  March's  pale  face, 
and  the  sensitive  nostrils  quivered ;  then  two  big  drops 
plashed  down  upon  the  letter  which  he  handed  to  his 
mother. 

"  Oh,  mother !  if  only  I  could  —  but  I  can't !  " 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  247 

He  rolled  over  on  the  soft  pasture  turf,  face  downwards, 
his  head  resting  on  his  arms. 

"  Why,  March  dear,"  said  his  mother,  tenderly,  "  why 
can't  you?  I  think  it  's  beautiful,  so  does  father." 

A  sob  shook  the  long,  thin  frame.  His  mother  laid  her 
hand  on  the  back  of  the  yellow  head.  "  What  is  it,  my 
dear  boy  ?  Can't  you  tell  me  ?  " 

The  head  shook  energetically  beneath  her  hand,  and 
muffled  words  issued  from  the  grass. 

"  But,  March,  we  thought  it  would  please  you  to  have 
such  an  opportunity.  You  have  read  what  Mr.  Clyde 
says  —  you  can  look  upon  it  as  a  loan.  I  hope  you  won't 
have  any  false  pride  in  this  matter  —  " 

"  'T  is  n't  false,  mother,"  came  forth  from  the  grass, "  and 
I  would  like  to  accept  his  offer,  if  only  it  were  n't  just  his." 

"  Why  not  his,  March  ?  Surely,  Hazel  has  been  like  one 
of  us  —  a  real  little  sister  —  "  Another  vigorous  wagging 
of  the  yellow  head  arrested  his  mother  in  the  midst  of  her 
sentence. 

"  Hazel  is  n't  my  sister." 

"  Why,  of  course,  you  can't  feel  as  near  to  her  as  to 
Rose,  but  then,  you  must  see  how  dear  she  has  become  to 
us  all  —  and  Mr.  Clyde  has  put  it  in  such  a  way,  that  the 
most  sensitive  person  could  accept  it  without  injury  to 
any  feeling  of  true  pride.  Take  time  and  think  it  over, 
March.  It  has  come  upon  you  rather  suddenly,  and  I  have 
been  thinking  about  it  for  two  weeks." 

"  It 's  no  use  to  think  it  over."  Deep  tragedy  now  made 
itself  audible,  as  March  rolled  over  and  sat  up,  displaying 


248  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

eyes  bright  with  excitement,  flushed  cheeks,  and  a  generally 
determined  air  of  having  it  out  with  himself. 

"  Well,  I  can't  understand  you,  March." 

"  I  wish  you  could." 

His  mother  smiled  in  spite  of  the  gravity  of  the  situa 
tion.  "Can't  you  tell  me?  or  give  me  some  clue  to  this 
mysterious  determination  of  yours  ?  " 

March  cast  a  despairing  glance  at  his  mother.  "  Mother, 
will  you  promise  never  to  tell?  " 

"  Not  even  your  father,  March  ?  " 

"  No,  father,  nor  any  one  —  ever,  mother." 

"  Very  well ;  I  promise,  March,  for  I  trust  you." 

"  Oh,  mother,  have  n't  you  seen  ?  —  don't  you  know, 
that  I  —  that  I  love  Hazel !  And  how  can  I  take  the 
money  from  her  father,  when  I  'm  going  to  try  to  make 
her  love  me  and  marry  me  sometime,  when  I  get  through 
studying,  and  —  and  —  Oh,  don't  you  see  ?  " 

And  Mrs.  Blossom  did  see  —  at  last. 

She  spoke  very  gently,  after  a  minute's  silence,  in  which 
March's  ears  burned  red  to  their  tips,  and  his  fingers  were 
busy  digging  up  a  tiny  strawberry-plant  by  the  roots. 
"  My  son,  I  see,  and  I  honor  you  for  feeling  as  you  do ; 
but,  March,  have  you  thought  of  the  difference  between 
you  and  Hazel?" 

"  What  difference,  mother  ?  " 

Now  Mary  Blossom  was  not  a  worldly  woman,  neither 
was  she  a  woman  of  the  world  —  and  she  found  it  difficult 
to  answer. 

"  You  know  how  Hazel  is  placed  in  life,  although  you 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  249 

do  not  know  with  what  luxury  she  is  surrounded  in  her 
home.  She  has  beauty,  a  large  circle  of  friends,  immense 
wealth.  There  will  be  many  who  will  seek  her  hand  in 
four  years'  time,  for  she  has  a  wonderful  charm  of  her  own, 
for  all  who  come  close  to  her.  —  Is  it  worth  while  to 
attempt,  even,  to  win  this  little  daughter  of  the  rich  ? 
You,  a  poor  boy,  with  his  way  to  make  ? " 

"But,  mother,"  —  there  was  strong  protest  in  the  voice 
—  "  she  did  n't  have  any  beauty  till  she  came  up  here  to 
us  —  and  if  she  was  a  rich  girl,  she  was  n't  a  healthy  one 
till  she  lived  up  here,  and  I  don't  see  the  good  of  money 
and  a  lot  of  things,  if  you  're  sick,  and  homely,  too." 
March  waxed  eloquent  in  his  desire  to  convince  his 
mother  of  the  justice  of  his  cause.  "And  if  she  hadn't 
come  up  here  she  would  n't  have  got  well,  and  then  she 
wouldn't  have  grown  so  beautiful  —  and  she  is  beautiful, 
mother."  (Mrs.  Blossom  nodded  assent.)  "  And  I  don't 
see  why  I  have  n't  just  as  much  right  to  try  to  make  her 
love  me  as  any  other  fellow.  You've  told  us  children, 
dozens  of  times,  it 's  just  character  that  counts,  and  not 
money,  and  if  I  try  as  hard  as  I  can  to  keep  straight  and 
be  a  good  man  like  father,  I  don't  see  why  things  would  n't 
be  all  right  in  the  end." 

Mrs.  Blossom  was  silenced,  — "  hoist  with  her  own 
petard."  "How  can  I  destroy  this  lovely,  young  ideal? 
I  dare  not,"  was  her  thought.  But  aloud,  she  said :  — 
"•  You  're  right,  March.  Nothing  but  character  counts. 
Make  yourself  worthy  of  this  little  love  of  yours.  We  '11 
keep  this  in  our  own  hearts,  and  when  you  are  tempted  to 


250  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

wrong-doing  —  and  there  are  fearful  temptations  for  every 
young  man  to  meet,  March,  —  temptations  of  which  you  can 
form  no  conception  here  in  the  shelter  of  your  home  — just 
remember  this  little  talk  of  ours,  and  keep  yourself  un 
spotted  by  the  world  just  by  the  thought  of  this  dear  girl 
whom  you  hope  some  day  to  win.  There  is  nothing, 
March,  that  will  keep  a  young  man  in  the  right  way  like 
his  love  for  just  '  the  one  girl  in  the  world  '  —  if  only  she 
be  worthy  of  his  love.  And  I  think  Hazel  will  be  —  even 
of  you." 

March  flung  his  arms  about  her  neck  and  kissed  her 
heartily : 

"  Dear,  little  Mother  Blossom,  I  '11  try,  and  even  if  I  fail, 
just  the  thought  of  such  a  glorious-filorious  mother  that 
does  n't  laugh  at  a  fellow  —  I  was  afraid  you  would,  though, 
—  will  keep  me  straight  enough.  Why,  Mother  Blossom ! 
I  'd  be  ashamed  to  look  you  in  the  eyes,  if  I  did  a  down 
right  mean  thing." 

His  mother  laughed  through  her  tears.  "  I  wonder  if 
many  mothers  get  such  a  compliment?  Come,  dear,  the 
dew  is  beginning  to  fall  —  it 's  been  such  a  heavenly 
day,  I  had  forgotten  it  is  early  spring.  Do  you  feel 
chilly?" 

"  Not  I,"  laughed  March,  and  proceeded  to  relieve  his 
feelings  after  his  favorite  method  —  by  turning  a  double- 
back  somersault  down  the  pasture  slope. 

As  Mrs.  Blossom  leaned  over  to  kiss  tired,  sleepy  Budd 
that  night,  she  thought  complacently  to  herself :  - 

"  Well,  thank  fortune,  here  's  one  who  is  heart-free,"  and 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  251 

laughed  softly  to  herself.     Chi  had  not  told  her  of  Budd's 
proposal. 

"  Wilkins,  tell  Miss  Hazel  to  come  down  into  the  library 
when  she  is  dressed  for  dinner." 

"  Yes,  Marse  Clyde."  Wilkins  sprang  upstairs  two 
steps  at  a  time,  and,  knocking  at  Hazel's  door,  delivered 
his  message. 

"  Tell  papa  I  'm  going  to  dress  early,  for  I  've  some 
things  to  attend  to  about  the  table,  Wilkins." 

"  Fo'  sho',  Miss  Hazel,"  said  Wilkins,  with  a  broad  smile 
of  delighted  surprise. 

"  And  tell  Mrs.  Scott  I  '11  choose  the  service,  if  she  will 
take  out  the  linen,  and  I  have  ordered  the  flowers.  Papa 
said  I  might." 

Wilkins  skipped  downstairs,  delivered  his  message  to 
the  amazed  housekeeper,  and  then  flew  into  the  kitchen  to 
impart  his  news  to  the  cook,  his  confidante  and  co-worker 
for  years  in  the  Clyde  household. 

Minna-Lu  was  preparing  a  confection,  and  giving  her 
whole  soul  to  the  making,  when  Wilkins  made  his  appear 
ance.  She  looked  up  grimly,  the  ebony  of  her  counte 
nance  shining  beneath  the  immaculate  white  of  her 
turban :  — 

"  Wa'  fo'  yo'  hyar  ?  " 

Wilkins  slapped  both  knees  with  the  palms  of  his  hands, 
and  bent  nearly  double  with  noiseless  laughter;  then, 
straightening  himself,  approached  Minna-Lu  with  boldness, 
despite  the  repelling  wave  of  the  cream-whip  that  she  held 


252  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

suspended  over  the  bowl,  and  confided  to  her  the  change 
of  regime,  to  her  edification  and  delight. 

She  put  down  the  bowl  and  whip,  stemmed  her  fists  on 
her  broad  hips,  and  gurgled  long  and  low.  "  'F  little 
missus  done  take  rale  hoi'  er  de  reins,  dere  ain't  no  kin'  er 
show  fo'  sech  po'  trash."  She  indicated  with  an  upward 
movement  of  her  thumb  the  upper  regions  where  the 
housekeeper  was  supposed  to  be. 

"  When  I  wan's  a  missus,  I  wan's  quality  folks,  an'  little 
missus  do  take  de  cake.  Nebber  see  sech  er  chile.  Dem 
great,  shinin'  eyes,  lookin'  at  yo'  out  o'  all  de  do's,  an'  dat 
laff  soun'in'  jes'  like  de  ol'  mocker  dat  nebber  knowed 
nuffin'  'bout  bedtime  —  yo'  recollecks  ?  "  Wilkins  nodded 
emphatically,  but  was  unprepared  for  Minna-Lu's  next 
move :  — 

"  Git  out  o'  hyar,  yo'  good-fo'-nuffin'  niggah.  Huccome 
yo'  stan'in'  roun'  wif  yo'  legs  stiffer  'n  de  whites  er  dese 
yer  eggs,  an'  yo'  jaw  goin'  like  de  egg-beatah,  an'  de  com- 
p'ny  comin'  at  rale  sharp  eight."  Minna-Lu  took  up  her 
bowl,  and  Wilkins  beat  a  hasty  retreat. 

It  wras  a  warm  first  of  May,  and  just  about  the  hour 
when  March  and  his  mother  were  leaving  the  Wishing- 
Tree,  that  Hazel  appeared  in  the  dining-room.  Wilkins 
gazed  at  her  in  a  species  of  adoration.  Her  orders  appeared 
to  him  revolutionary,  but  he  obeyed  them  implicitly  and 
unhesitatingly. 

"  Take  off  the  candelabra,  Wilkins,  it  is  too  warm 
to-night  to  have  them  on  ;  besides,  people  don't  have  a 
nice  time  talking  when  they  have  to  peek  around  them  to 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  253 

get  a  glimpse  of  the  people  they  're  talking  to."  Wilkins 
whisked  off  the  candelabra  as  if  they  had  been  made  of 
thistledown. 

"  Dat  's  so,  fo'  sho',  Miss  Hazel.  I  see  de  folks  doan' 
talk  when  dey  ain'  comf'ble  ;  but  I  nebber  tink  ob  de 
can'les." 

"  When  it 's  dark  you  can  light  all  the  sconces.  I  want 
you  to  use  the  pale  green,  Bohemian  dinner  set  to-night; 
and  I  want  just  as  little  silver  as  possible." 

Wilkins  looked  blank,  and  Hazel  laughed.  "  Oh,  we  '11 
make  it  up  with  some  cut  glass,  I  '11  manage  it.  I  want 
the  table  to  look  cool  and  simple,  just  to-night." 

Cool  and  simple.  Wilkins  failed  to  comprehend  it,  but 
such  was  his  faith  in  "  little  Missy,"  that  he  carried  out 
her  orders  to  the  letter,  and  the  result  was,  according  to 
Mrs.  Fenlick,  "a  dream  of  beauty." 

When  she  had  made  her  preparations  to  her  entire  satis 
faction,  as  well  as  Wilkins's,  and  the  latter  had  called 
Minna-Lu  from  her  culinary  tug-of-war  to  witness  "  little 
Missy's  "  triumph,  Hazel  ran  into  the  library. 

Her  father  looked  at  her  in  amazement.  Could  this 
radiant,  young  girl  be  the  same  Hazel  of  a  year  ago  ? 
They  had  gone  directly  to  North  Carolina  when  Hazel  had 
left  Mount  Hunger,  and  had  been  at  home  but  two  days. 
This  little  dinner  was  given  to  Mr.  Clyde's  intimate 
friends  as  an  informal  celebration  and  recognition  of  his 
daughter's  return  to  the  New  York  house. 

Now,  as  she  ran  into  the  room  and  linked  her  arm  in  his, 
her  father  looked  down  upon  her  with  such  evident  pride 


254  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

and   love,   that   Hazel   laughed   joyfully,   laid   her   cheek 
against  his  coat-sleeve  and  patted  his  hand. 

"  Do  I  look  nice,  Papa  Clyde?  " 

"  Nice !  that 's  no  word  for  it,  Birdie."  And  thereupon 
he  took  her  in  his  arms  and  gave  her  such  a  hug  and  a 
kiss,  that  the  pretty  dress  must  have  suffered  if  it  had  not 
been  made  of  the  softest  of  white  China-silk. 

"  Oh,  my  flowers  !  you  '11  crush  them ! "  she  cried, 
shielding  with  both  hands  a  bunch  of  flowers  at  her  belt. 

"  Where  did  you  get  all  this  —  this  style,  daughter 
mine  ?  It 's  —  why,  you  're  nothing  but  a  little  girl,  but 
it's  'chic.'" 

Hazel  enjoyed  her  father's  admiration  to  the  full.  She 
drew  herself  up,  straight  and  tall,  graceful  and  slender  — 
her  head  was  already  above  his  shoulder  —  exclaiming :  — 

"  Little  girl !  Well,  your  little  girl  designed  this  gown 
herself.  I  would  n't  have  any  fuss  or  frills  about  it ;  it 's 
just  plain  and  full  and  soft  and  clingy,  and  this  sash  of 
soft  silk  —  is  n't  it  a  pretty,  pale  green  ?  —  feel  -  She 
caught  up  a  handful  of  the  delicate  fabric  and  crushed  it 
in  her  hand,  then  smoothed  it  again,  and  it  showed  no 
wrinkles.  "  I  've  put  it  on  to  match  the  dinner.  I  've 
had  it  all  my  own  way  —  Wilkins  did  just  as  I  said  — 
and  it's  all  cool  and  green  and  springy.  You  '11  see." 

"  Where  did  you  get  these  flowers  ?  "  Mr.  Clyde  touched 
the  bunch  of  arbutus,  that  showed  so  delicately  pink  and 
white  against  the  white  of  her  dress  and  the  green  of  her 
sash. 

A  wave  of  beautiful  color  shot  up  to  the  roots  of  the 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  255 

little  crinkles  of  chestnut  hair  on  her  temples  ;  she  touched 
the  blossoms  caressingly.  "I  wrote  March  about  this 
dinner-party,  and  how  it  was  the  first  at  which  I  had  been 
hostess,  and  he  wrote  back  and  wanted  to  know  what  I 
was  going  to  wear,  and  I  told  him  —  and  this  morning 
these  lovely  things  came  by  mail  all  done  up  in  cotton 
wool  in  a  tin  cracker-box,  the  kind  Chi  uses  to  put  his 
worm-bait  in,  when  he  goes  fishing.  Are  n't  they  lovely  ? 
And  was  n't  March  lovely  to  think  of  them,  papa  ?  " 

"  They  are  n't  half  as  lovely  as  you  are,"  said  Mr.  Clyde, 
earnestly,  replying  to  half  of  her  question  only.  kt  You 
are  my  unspoiled  Hazel-blossom  -  Then  a  sudden,  in 
trusive  thought  caught  and  arrested  his  words.  "Hazel 
Blossom,"  he  repeated  to  himself,  looking  at  her  uncon 
scious  face  as  he  uttered  the  last  word,  "  Good  heavens ! 
Could  such  a  thing  be  ?  " 

"  De  Cun'le  an'  Mrs.  Fenlick,"  announced  Wilkins. 

And  when  they  were  all  seated  at  the  table  —  the 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Fenlick,  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Heath,  Aunt 
Carrie  and  Uncle  Jo,  the  Masons  and  the  Pearsells  —  with 
no  candelabra  to  interfere  with  the  merry  speech  and 
glances,  with  the  light  from  the  candles  in  the  sconces 
shining  softly  on  the  exquisite  napery,  on  the  low  bed  of 
white  tulips  in  the  centre  and  the  grace  of  the  pale,  green 
porcelain,  with  the  tall  Bohemian  Romer-glasses  before 
the  plates  —  what  wonder  that  Mrs.  Fenlick  pronounced 
it  a  "  dream  of  beauty  "  ? 

When  their  guests  had  gone,  Mr.  Clyde  turned  to 
Hazel: — -"I  shall  be  glad  to  open  the  Newport  cottage 


256  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

again,  Birdie,  with  such  a  little  hostess  to  help  me  enter 
tain." 

"  The  Newport  house,  papa ! "  Hazel  exclaimed,  a  dis 
tinct  note  of  disappointment  sounding  in  her  voice. 

"  Why  not,  dear  ?  I  thought  of  getting  down  there  by 
the  tenth;  in  fact,  gave  my  orders  to  Mrs.  Scott  to  begin 
packing  to-morrow." 

Hazel  was  evidently  struggling  with  herself.  She  fin 
gered  the  arbutus  nervously ;  took  them  out  of  her  belt ; 
inhaled  their  fragrance.  Then  she  looked  up  with  a  smile, 
although  the  corners  of  her  mouth  drooped  and  trembled 
a  little  :  — 

"  Why,  of  course,  why  not,  papa  ?  It 's  so  much  pleas- 
anter  there  in  May,  than  when  everybody  is  down  for  the 
summer." 

Her  father  sat  down  in  an  easy-chair,  put  an  arm  around 
his  daughter,  and  drew  her  down  to  a  seat  on  the  arm  of 
the  chair. 

"  Now,  Hazel,  I  want  you  to  tell  me  all  about  it.  Don't 
you  want  to  go  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  're  there,  papa,  but  —  "  she  turned  sud 
denly  and  her  arm  stole  around  his  neck  —  "  don't  leave 
me  there  alone,  papa,  please  don't." 

"  Leave  you  —  I  ?     Why  what  do  you  mean,  dear?  " 

"  Oh,  it  is  so  lonesome  when  you  are  away,  papa,  when 
you  go  off  yachting  with  the  Colonel  —  and  the  house  is 
so  big,  and  there  's  nobody  to  talk  to  and  say  good-night  to 
—  and  —  and,  oh,  dear  !  "  The  tears  began  to  come,  but 
she  struggled  bravely  for  a  few  minutes. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  257 

"  Why,  little  girl,  you  have  never  told  me  you  were 
lonesome  without  me :  indeed,  you  have  never  shown 
any  sign  of  it,  or  of  wanting  me  around  much.  I  never 
thought  —  why,  Hazel."  Down  went  the  curly  head  on 
his  shoulder,  and  the  sobs  grew  loud  and  frequent. 

"  There,  there,  Birdie,"  he  said  soothingly,  stroking  her 
head,  "  you  're  all  tired  out ;  this  party  has  been  too  much 
for  you  —  " 

An  energetic,  protesting  head-shake  was  followed  by 
broken  sentences  —  "  It  was  n't  that  —  I  'm  not  tired  —  you 
don't  know,  papa  —  I  didn't  know — know  I  was  lone 
some,  and  that  I  was  —  I  think  I  was  homesick  —  dread 
fully  —  but  Barbara  Frietchie,  you  know  —  I  had  to  be 
brave —  and,  I  have  tried  not  to  show  it  to  make  you  feel 
unhappy  —  and  I  love  you  so  !  but,  oh,  dear  !  I  miss  them 
so  dreadfully,  and  I  hoped  —  I  was  a  member  of  the  N.  B. 
—  B.  O. — O.,  Oh  —  dear  me,  —  Society,  and  the  by-law 
says  —  I  mean  March  read  it  —  Oh,  papa!  " 

"Well,  well,  there,  there,  dear,"  said  the  somewhat 
mystified  father,  bending  all  his  efforts  to  soothe  this  evi 
dently  perturbed  spirit,  "  why  did  n't  you  tell  me  before  ?  " 

"  Because  I  was  Barbara  Frietchie." 

"Now,  Hazel,  sit  up  and  look  me  in  the  face  and  tell  me 
what  you  mean.  I  supposed  I  was  holding  Hazel  Clyde  in 
my  arms  and  not  old  Barbara  Frietchie.  Please  explain." 

"  I  thought  I  wrote  you,  papa,"  Hazel  could  not  help 
smiling  through  her  tears,  for  it  did  strike  her  as  rather 
funny  about  papa's  holding  the  patriotic,  old  lady  in  his 
arms. 

17 


258  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  Well,  you  did  n't  tell  me  that."     So  Hazel  explained. 

Mr.  Clyde  nodded  approval.  "  Very  good,  I  approve 
of  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  Society,  and  of  the  present  Barbara 
Frietchie's  heroism  —  but  no  more  of  it  is  called  for.  You 
see,  I  fully  intended  you  should  pay  your  friends  —  my 
friends  —  a  visit  this  summer,  but  I  thought  it  would  be 
much  better  later  in  the  season  when  Mrs.  Blossom  would 
be  rested  from  the  fatigue  of  March's  illness  — 

"  Oh,  papa !  "  A  squeeze  effectually  impeded  further 
utterance.  "  I  don't  care  how  soon  we  go  to  Newport,  or 
anywhere  —  of  course,  if  you  are  with  me  —  as  long  as 
I  can  go  to  Mount  Hunger  sometime  this  summer.  And, 
besides,"  she  added  eagerly,  "  we  planned  next  winter's 
visit  from  Rose,  didn't  we?" 

"  I  should  rather  think  we  did.  We  shall  be  very  proud 
of  our  beautiful  friend,  Rose,  and  delighted  to  have  our 
friends  meet  her,  shan't  we  ? "  Another  squeeze  pre 
cluded,  for  the  moment,  articulate  speech. 

"  Yes,"  Hazel  cried,  enthusiastically,  "  we  '11  take  her  to 
concerts  and  operas  —  just  think,  papa,  with  that  lovely 
voice  she  has  never  heard  a  concert !  —  and  we  '11  take  her 
to  the  theatre  and  —  " 

"  And,"  her  father  went  on,  growing  enthusiastic  him 
self  at  the  prospect,  for  he  was  the  soul  of  hospitality, 
"  and  we  '11  give  her  a  dainty  dinner  or  two,  and  possibly 
a  little  dance  —  few  and  early,  you  know  - 

"  Oh  —  ee !  "  cried  Hazel,  forgetting  her  woe,  "  and  Mrs. 
Heath  will  give  a  lunch-party  for  her,  and,  perhaps,  Aunt 
Carrie  a  tea,  and  Mrs.  Fenlick  a  reception  —  " 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  259 

"  Heavens  !  "  interrupted  her  father,  "  you  '11  kill  her 
with  kindness  —  that  fresh,  wild  rose  can't  stand  all 
that  —  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  can,  papa ;  she  can  stand  that  just 
as  well  as  I  stood  going  up  there  where  everything  was 
so  different." 

"  True,"  said  Mr.  Clyde,  thoughtfully,  "  it  was  different." 

"  Oh,  it  was,  papa !  I  never  had  to  go  to  bed  alone. 
Mrs.  Blossom  always  came  to  say  good-night  and  to  kiss 
me,  and  to  —  to  — 

"  To  what  ?  "  asked  her  father. 

"  You  won't  mind  if  I  tell  you  ?  "  Hazel  asked,  half-shyly. 

"  Mind  !  I  should  say  not ;  I  should  mind  if  you  did  n't 
tell  me." 

"  —  to  say  '  Our  Father  '  with  me,  papa ;  you  know  no 
one  ever  said  it  with  me  before,  and  it 's  —  it 's  such  a 
comfy  time  to  feel  sorry  and  talk  over  what  you  've  done 
wrong ;  and  it 's  that  I  miss  so." 

"I  don't  blame  you,  Birdie,"  said  her  father,  quietly. 
"  But  now  see  how  late  it  is ! "  —  he  pointed  to  the 
clock  — "  Eleven  !  This  will  never  do  for  a  debutante. 
Good-night,  darling.  Sweet  dreams  of  Rose  and  the 
N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  Society." 

"  Good-night,  Papa  Clyde ;  Doctor  Heath  says  you  are 
the  most  splendid  fellow  in  the  world  —  but  I  know  you 
are  the  dearest  father  in  the  world  ;  good-night,  I  've  had 
a  lovely  party." 

She  ran  upstairs,  but,  in  a  moment,  her  father  heard  her 
tripping  down  again.  Her  head  parted  the  portieres.  "  I 


260  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

just  came  back  to  tell  you,  that  this  kind  of  a  talk  we  've 
had  is  just  as  good  as  the  Mount  Hunger  bedtime-talks. 
I  shan't  be  homesick  any  more."  And  away  she  ran. 

Now  John  Curtis  Clyde  was  a  pew-owner  — as  had  been 
his  father  and  grandfather  before  him  —  in  one  of  the 
Fifth  Avenue  churches,  and  duly  made  his  appearance  in 
that  pew  every  Sunday  morning.  He  entered,  too,  into 
the  service  with  hearty  voice,  and  made  his  responses 
without,  the  while,  giving  undue  thought  to  the  world. 
But  when  he  had  said  "  Our  Father "  with  his  little 
daughter  by  his  side,  he  had  supposed  his  duty  performed 
to  the  extent  of  his  needs  —  of  another's,  his  child's,  he 
gave  no  thought. 

To-night,  however,  as  he  sat  in  the  easy-chair  where 
Hazel  had  left  him,  it  began  to  dawn  upon  him  slowly 
that  his  little  daughter,  during  her  fourteen  years,  might 
have  had  other  needs,  for  which  he  had  not  provided,  nor, 
perhaps,  with  all  his  riches  was  capable  of  providing. 

The  clock  chimed  twelve, — one, —  two  — ;  John  Clyde, 
with  a  sigh,  rose  and  went  up  to  bed  — •  a  wiser  and  a 
better  man. 


XXII 

BOSB 

WHAT  a  summer  that  was!  Mr.  Clyde  sent  Hazel  up 
to  the  Blossoms  for  July  and  again  for  September,  when 
he,  the  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Fenlick,  the  Pearsells  and  the 
Masons,  Aunt  Carrie  and  Uncle  Jo  took  possession  of  the 
entire  inn  at  Barton's  River,  and  for  a  month  coached  and 
rode  throughout  the  "  North  Country,"  all  in  the  cool 
September  weather.  Jack  Sherrill  joined  them  for  the 
last  three  weeks,  and,  this  time,  Maude  Seaton  was  not  of 
the  party. 

"  I  just  headed  her  off  every  time  she  made  a  dead  set 
at  any  one  of  us  for  an  invitation,"  said  Mrs.  Fenlick  one 
day  in  confidence  to  her  intimate,  Mrs.  Pearsell,  as  they 
sat  on  the  vine-covered  veranda  of  the  inn,  "but  she 
proved  a  regular  octopus.  She  got  the  Colonel  in  her 
toils  one  morning  at  the  Casino,  and  I  pretended  to  be 
faint  —  yes,  I  did  —  just  to  get  his  attention  for  a  sufficient 
time  to  make  a  fuss,  and  get  him  alone  in  the  carriage ; 
then,  of  course,  I  settled  it.  Oh,  dear !  men  are  so  guile 
less  in  spots ! "  -  Mrs.  Fenlick  gave  a  weary  sigh  - 
"  What  I  have  n't  been  through  with  that  girl !  Anyway, 
she 's  been  out  two  winters,  now,  and  she  has  n't  caught 


262  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Jack  Sherrill  yet.  I  don't  think  there  is  much  chance 
after  the  first  season  for  a  girl  to  make  a  really  fine  match, 
do  you  ? "  Then  they  fell  to  discussing  the  pros,  and 
cons,  of  the  question  with  evergreen  interest. 

Jack  Sherrill,  for  one,  had  no  thought  of  Miss  Seaton. 
He  had  sent  the  valentine-flowers,  and  the  sentiment  from 
Barry  Cornwall's  love-song,  with  a  strange  kind  of  k4  kill  or 
cure  "  feeling. 

He  had  communed  with  himself,  at  twilight  of  one 
February  day,  as  he  lay  at  full  length  on  the  cush 
ioned  window-seat  of  his  room  from  which  he  looked 
down  upon  the  darkening,  snow-covered  campus  and  the 
anatomy  of  the  elms  showing  black  against  it.  His  pipe 
had  gone  out,  but  he  derived  some  satisfaction  in  pulling 
away  at  it  mechanically,  while  he  thought  out  the  situa 
tion  for  himself. 

"  What 's  the  use  of  a  man's  hanging  fire  when  he 
knotvs?"  he  thought.  "Now,  I  love  her  —  love  her." 
(Jack's  hand  stole  into  the  breast  of  his  jacket  and  crushed 
a  bit  of  paper  there  ;  he  smiled.)  "  Of  course  she  does  n't 
know,  and  won't  know  for  a  while,  but  it  shan't  be  through 
any  neglect  of  mine  that  she  does  n't ;  and  when  she 
knows  —  there  's  the  rub !  —  will  she  care  for  me,  Jack 
Sherrill  ?  I  've  never  done  anything  in  my  life  to  make  a 
girl  like  that  care  for  me. 

"  But  there 's  one  thing  I  'd  stake  my  life  on  —  she 
would  n't  marry  a  man  for  his  money.  A  man  's  got  to 
be  loved  for  himself  —  not  for  what  he  can  give  a  woman, 
or  do  for  her,  but  just  for  himself,  if  it 's  going  to  be  the 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  263 

real  thing,  and  last.  And  Avhat  am  I  that  a  girl  like  that 
should  love  me  —  '  Jack  was  growing  very  humble.  He 
pulled  himself  together :  "  Anyhow,  I  '11  send  the  flowers 
and  the  sentiment,  /  mean  it;  I  don't  care  what  she 
thinks ! "  Jack's  courage  rose  as  he  began  to  feel  some 
thing  like  defiance  of  Fate. 

Just  then  his  chum  came  in. 

"  There 's  no  use,  Sherrill,"  he  said,  flinging  himself 
down  upon  the  cushioned  seat  Jack  had  just  vacated ;  "  we 
can't  have  the  theatricals  unless  you  take  the  girl's  part. 
It  won't  put  you  out  any  —  smooth  face  and  no  scrub. 
You  've  been  it  once,  and  it  will  be  a  dead  failure  if  you 
aren't  in  it  now." 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  can,"  replied  Jack,  shortly,  for  this 
intrusion  on  his  mood  irritated  him.  "  I  told  you,  all  of 
you,  at  the  Club  last  year,  that  I  would  n't  play  after  I  was 
a  Junior." 

"  Well,  what  if  you  did?"  rejoined  his  chum,  a  little 
crossly.  "  You  're  not  so  uncompromisingly  steadfast  in 
other  things  that"  you  can't  afford  to  change  your  mind  in 
such  a  trifle  as  this." 

"  Come,  don't  be  touchy,"  said  Jack,  good-humoredly. 
"  Hit  right  out  from  the  shoulder,  old  man,  and  tell  me 
what  you  mean." 

Dawns  smiled,  clasped  his  hands  under  his  head,  and 
raised  his  merry  blue  eyes  to  Jack,  who  was  lighting  up. 

"They  say  over  at  the  Club  that  you  have  thrown 
Maude  Seaton  over,  but  Grayson  took  up  the  Seaton 
cudgels  and  made  the  statement  that  she  had  thrown  you 


264  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

over,  and  you  won't  take  the  girl's  part  in  the  play  because 
she  is  coming  on  for  it." 

Jack  hesitated.  He  hated  to  play  at  any  comedy  of  love 
when  his  heart  was  throbbing  with  the  genuine  article. 
But,  after  all,  it  might  be  the  best  way  to  silence  the 
Club's  tongues  as  well  as  some  others  in  Boston  and  New 
York. 

"  I  '11  help  you  out  this  once,  Dawns,  but  I  tell  you 
plainly  I  won't  have  anything  more  to  do  with  the  Club 
theatricals  while  I  'm  in  college,"  he  replied,  ignoring  both 
of  Dawns'  statements,  which  omissions  his  chum  noticed, 
and  made  his  own  thoughts :  "  Just  like  Sherrill.  You 
can't  get  any  hold  of  him  to  know  what  he  really  feels 
and  thinks." 

Jack  played  his  part  accordingly,  repeating  the  success 
of  the  year  before,  and  scoring  new  triumphs.  He  was 
glad  when  it  was  over,  and  he  could  go  back  to  his  room 
"  dead  tired,"  as  he  said  to  himself,  but  with  the  conviction 
that  he  had  settled  matters  to  his  own  satisfaction  if  not  to 
that  of  one  other. 

The  room  was  in  such  disorder !  Evidently,  Dawns  had 
been  having  a  little  spree  before  Jack's  late  return,  and  the 
smoke  had  left  the  air  heavy. 

Jack  dropped  his  paraphernalia  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor  —  peeling  himself  as  he  stood  yawning  and  thanking 
his  lucky  star  that  he  was  not  born  a  woman  to  be  handi 
capped  by  such  things !  —  decollete,  white  satin  waist,  long- 
trained  satin  gown,  necklace  —  Jack  gave  the  string  a 
twitch,  for  it  had  knotted,  and  the  Roman  pearls  rolled 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  265 

into  unreachable  places  all  over  the  floor.  Off  flew  one 
white  satin  slipper  —  number  ten,  broad  at  the  toes  !  — 
with  a  fine  "  drop  kick  "  hitting  the  ceiling  and  landing  on 
the  book-shelves ;  the  other  followed  suit.  White  fan  with 
chain,  white  elbow  gloves,  corsage  bouquet  —  all  dropped 
in  a  promiscuous  heap.  A  general  stampede  loosened  silk 
under-skirt  and  dainty  muslin  petticoat,  lace-trimmed.  A 
wrench,  —  corset-cover  and  corsets  were  torn  from  their 
moorings.  Jack  groaned  —  or  something  worse  —  at  the 
flummery,  and,  leaving  everything  as  it  had  dropped, 
rushed  off  into  his  bedroom,  only  to  find  that  he  had 
forgotten  to  take  off  the  blonde  wig  and  wash  off  the 
rouge. 

At  last,  however,  he  was  asleep,  and  slept  the  sleep  of 
the  justified. 

He  slept  both  soundty  and  late,  but  when  he  awoke  the 
next  morning  his  first  thought  was  of  the  flowers  for  Mount 
Hunger  and  the  appropriate  sentiment.  Accordingly,  hav 
ing  reckoned  the  arrival  of  train,  departure  of  stage,  etc., 
to  a  minute,  he  selected  the  flowers,  wrote  the  sentiment, 
not  without  forebodings  of  the  usual  kind,  and  despatched 
both  to  Mount  Hunger  with  high  hopes,  notwithstanding 
prescient  feelings.  Then,  metaphorically,  he  sat  down  to 
await  an  answer.  He  waited  just  two  months,  and  during 
that  time  had  turned  emotionally  black  and  blue  more 
than  once  at  the  thought  of  his  temerity  in  sending  such 
a  message. 

Hazel  had  written  him  at  once  from  North  Carolina  to 
tell  him  of  March's  illness,  and  on  the  same  day  she  sent 


266  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

a  penitent  note  to  Rose,  confessing  her  shame  at  her  attempt 
at  deception,  and  explaining  that  it  was  because  she  loved 
her  cousin  so  dearly  she  could  not  bear  to  see  his  gift 
slighted. 

When  March  was  out  of  danger,  Rose  had  written  to 
Hazel  a  frank,  loving  letter,  blaming  herself  for  her  want 
of  self-control,  and  begging  Hazel's  forgiveness  for  her 
harsh  words: 

"  It's  all  my  old  pride,  Hazel  dear,"  she  wrote,  "  that  I  have 
to  fight  very  often.  It  was  most  kind  of  Mr.  Sherrill  to  remem 
ber  me  when  he  has  so  many,  many  other  friends  whom  he  has 
known  longer,  and  I  shall  write  and  tell  him  so.  Now  that  my 
heart  is  lighter  on  account  of  dear  March,  I  can  write  more 
easily. 

il  We  miss  you  so!  when  are  you  coming  back  to  us?  Chi 
looks  perfectly  disconsolate,  and  we  all  feel  a  great  deal  more 
than  we  care  to  say. 

"I  wish  you  were  here  to  have  the  fun  of  the  French  even 
ings,  three  times  a  week.  You  speak  it  so  beautifully,  Mr. 
Ford  says,  and  I  thank  you  so  much  for  all  the  help  you  gave 
me  in  teaching  me.  Mr.  Ford  speaks  it  very  well,  too,  so  Miss 
Alton  says.  We  all  meet  at  our  house  once  a  week  on  March's 
account,  and  then  one  evening  in  the  week,  Miss  Alton  and  I 
(she  'B  lovely)  go  over  to  the  Fords'  for  music.  He  has  sent 
for  some  lovely  songs  for  me  —  old  English  ones,  and  we're 
going  to  have  a  little  celebration  for  March's  birthday  in  May. 
How  I  wish  you  were  to  be  here ! 

"•  March  is  lying  on  the  settle,  dreaming  over  that  exquisite 
photograph  of  Cologne  Cathedral  you  sent  him ;  I  've  just 
asked  him  if  he  had  any  messages  for  you,  and  he  smiled  —  oh, 
it 's  so  good  to  see  his  dear  smile  again  !  You  can't  think 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  267 

how  tall  he's  grown  since  his  illness,  and  he's  so  thin  —  and 
said,  '  I  sent  one  to  her  this  morning  myself;  she  can't  have  two 
a  day.'  But  you  know  March's  ways. 

"Now  I  must  stop;  Mr.  Ford  is  coming  over  on  horse 
back  and  I  am  riding  Bob  now.  I  wear  an  old  riding- 
habit  of  Martie's  —  it  fits  fine!  1  have  more  to  tell  you,  but 
will  finish  after  I  get  back  from  the  ride  —  there  comes  Mr. 
Ford  —  " 

This  letter  Hazel  duly  forwarded  to  her  cousin.  "  He  '11 
know  by  what  she  says  in  it  that  she  really  was  pleased, 
for  all  she  acted  so  queer,"  she  said  to  herself  as  she  en 
closed  it  in  one  to  Jack,  in  which  she  took  special  pains 
to  inform  him  that  he  had  never  told  her  whether  he  had 
given  those  verses  Rose  sang  to  Miss  Seaton. 

"  I  told  Rose  I  was  sure  they  were  for  Miss  Seaton,  and 
Rose  said  she  did  n't  mind  copying  them  herself  for  you  if  you 
wished  them.  Do  tell  me  if  you  gave  them  to  her.  I  told 
Rose  your  valentine  to  her  last  year  was  a  rose-heart.  I  hope 
you  don't  mind  my  telling,  for,  you  know,  Jack,  all  our  family 
think  you  are  engaged  to  her  — 

Jack  dropped  Hazel's  letter  at  this  point  and  gave  a 
decided  groan. 

"  What  luck  !  "  he  muttered.  "  It 's  all  up  with  the 
whole  thing  now.  No  girl  of  any  spirit  would  stand  all 
that  —  and  Hazel  meddling  so  !  thinking  she  is  doing  her 
level  best  to  explain  matters;  —  What  an  ass  I  was  to 
send  that  flower-valentine  to  Maude  —  and  she  thinks  I 
gave  her  those  verses !  and  there  's  this  Ford  skulking 
round  and  having  it  all  his  own  way ;  he  's  just  the  kind 


268  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

a  girl  would  care  for  —  those  musical  cranks  are  no  end 
sentimental.  Hang  it  all !  " 

Jack  thrust  his  hands  deep  into  his  pockets,  took  several 
decided  turns  up  and  down  the  room,  squared  his  shoul 
ders,  pursed  his  lips,  cut  his  two  classroom  lectures,  ordered 
up  Little  Shaver  and  rode  out  to  the  polo  grounds,  where, 
finding  himself  alone,  he  put  the  little  fellow  through  his 
best  paces,  ignoring  the  fact  that  snow  and  ice  wore  on 
the  pony's  nerves  —  and  had  a  game  out  to  himself. 

When  just  two  months  had  passed,  he  received  a  note 
from  Rose,  his  first,  and  it  was  accorded  the  reception  due 
to  first  notes  in  particular.  After  this,  Jack  developed 
certain  wiles  of  diplomacy,  he  had  thus  far,  in  his  various 
experiences,  held  in  abeyance.  He  wrote  sympathetic 
notes  to  Mrs.  Blossom ;  commissioned  Chi  to  find  him 
another  polo  pony  —  Morgan,  if  possible  —  among  the 
Green  Hills ;  sent  March  a  set  of  illustrated  books  on 
architecture,  and  complained  to  Doctor  Heath  of  a  pain 
that  racked  his  chest ;  at  which  the  Doctor's  eyes  twinkled. 
He  said  he  would  examine  him  later,  but  he  was  convinced 
it  was  heart  trouble,  the  symptoms  were  apt  to  mislead 
and  confuse.  He  added  gravely :  "  Too  much  hard  polo 
riding,  Jack ;  get  away  into  the  country  —  mountains  if 
you  can,  and  you  '11  recuperate  fast  enough.  I  '11  make 
an  examination  in  the  fall." 

Jack  obeyed  to  the  letter,  and  what  a  month  of  Septem 
ber  that  was  ! 

There  were  glorious  rides  with  Rose  along  the  beautiful 
river  valley  and  over  the  mountain  roads.  There  were 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  269 

delightful  evenings  at  the  Fords',  and  silent,  beatific  walks 
with  Rose  homewards  beneath  the  harvest  moon.  There 
were  morning  rambles  with  Rose  up  over  the  pastures  and 
deep  into  the  woodlands  for  late  ferns  and  hooded  gen 
tians.  There  were  adorable  hours  of  doing  nothing  but 
adore,  while  Rose  was  busy  about  her  work,  setting  the 
table  for  tea  (Jack  paid  his  board  at  the  inn,  but  he  lived 
at  the  Blossoms'),  or  laying  the  cloth  for  dinner,  or  on 
Saturday  morning  even  making  rolls  for  the  tea  to  which 
the  whole  party  at  the  inn  were  invited. 

Chi  was  in  his  glory.  Little  Shaver  came  trotting 
regularly  every  day  up  through  the  woods'-road,  and 
whinnied  "  Good-morning "  first  to  Fleet,  then  to  Chi. 
There  were  general  coaching-parties  to  Woodstock  and 
Brandon,  in  which  Mrs.  Blossom  was  guest,  and  a  grand 
tea  at  the  Fords'  for  all  the  guests,  with  a  musicale  for  a 
finish,  and  an  informal  dance  in  the  Blossoms'  barn  to 
which  all  the  Lost  Nation  were  invited. 

They  accepted,  one  and  all.  Captain  Spillkins  was  in 
his  element,  so  he  said.  He  and  Mrs.  Fenlick  danced  a 
two-step  in  a  manner  to  win  the  commendation  of  the 
entire  assembly.  Miss  Elvira  and  Miss  Melissa  went 
through  the  square  dance  escorted  by  Jack  and  Uncle 
Jo.  There  were  round  dances  and  contra  dances.  Uncle 
Israel  contributed  an  "1812"  jig,  and  Mr.  Clyde  passed 
round  the  hat  for  his  sole  benefit.  There  were  waltzes 
for  those  who  could  waltz,  and  polkas  for  those  who  could 
polka,  and  schottische  and  minuet.  "  There  never  was 
such  a  dance  since  before  the  Deluge ! "  declared  Mrs. 


270  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Fenlick,  when  Captain.  Spillkins  escorted  her  to  a  seat 
on  a  sap-bucket;  and  then  they  all  went  at  it  again  in 
a  grand  finale,  the  Virginia  Reel  —  Chi  and  Hazel,  Mr. 
Clyde  and  Aunt  Tryphosa  for  head  and  foot  couple ; 
Maria-Ann  with  Jack ;  Alan  Ford  with  Mrs.  Fenlick ;  the 
Colonel  with  Mrs.  Blossom  whom  he  admired  greatly ; 
March  and  Miss  Alton  —  such  a  double  row  of  them  ! 

Poor  Reub  sat  in  one  of  the  empty  stalls  and  watched 
the  fun  with  slow,  half-understanding  smile,  and  Ruth 
Ford  reclined  in  a  rocking-chair  in  the  corner,  and  with 
merry  laughter  and  sparkling  wit  soothed  the  dull  ache  in 
her  heart  that  the  knowledge  that  she  was  henceforth  to 
be  a  "  Shut-out "  from  all  that  life  had  at  first  given  her. 

The  next  day  after  the  dance  there  was  a  grand  dinner 
given  at  the  inn  by  the  Newport  party  to  all  the  Lost 
Nation ;  and,  later  on,  private  entertainments  for  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Blossom  and  the  Fords.  At  last,  when  the  first 
maple  leaves  crimsoned  and  the  frost  silvered  the  mullein 
leaves  in  the  pasture,  Hazel,  her  father,  Jack,  and  their 
friends  bade  good-bye  to  the  Mountain  and  all  its  joys  of 
acquaintance,  and  in  some  cases,  friendship,  and  turned 
their  faces,  not  without  reluctance  on  the  part  of  some  of 
them,  city-wards. 

"  Oh,  mother !  has  n't  it  been  too  beautiful  for  anything?  " 
exclaimed  Rose,  turning  to  her  mother,  as  the  last  of  the 
riding-party  waved  his  cap  in  farewell  to  those  on  the 
porch.  It  was  Jack. 

"  We  have  had  a  happy  summer,  Rose  ;  —  I  think  they 
have,  too,"  her  mother  added,  shading  her  eyes  from  the 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  271 

setting  sun.  "  You  '11  be  very  lonel}'  here  at  home,  dear, 
after  all  this  gayety." 

"  Lonely !  Why,  Martie  Blossom,  how  can  you  think 
of  such  a  thing !  "  said  Rose,  still  scanning  the  lower  road 
for  a  last  glimpse  of  the  riders.  "  See,  see,  they  are  all 
waving  their  handkerchiefs  ! " 

The  whole  Blossom  family  laid  hold  of  what  they  could 
—  napkins,  towels,  a  table-cloth,  and  Chi  seized  his  shirt, 
which  he  had  hung  on  the  line  to  dry,  and  waved  frantic 
ally  until  the  party  was  no  longer  to  be  seen. 

"  Lonesome !  the  idea,"  said  Rose,  turning  to  her  mother. 
"  Think  of  all  the  studying  March  and  I  have  to  do,  and 
the  French  evenings,  and  the  Fords,  and  Thanksgiving 
coming,  and  then  Christmas,  and  then  — 

"  Then,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom,  interrupting  her,  "  my  Rose 
takes  a  little  plunge  into  that  whirlpool  of  gay  life  and 
fashion  in  New  York." 

"  Yes,"  said  Rose,  with  a  happy  smile  that  spoke  volumes 
to  her  mother,  "  I  do  look  forward  to  it,  Martie  dear ;  but 
the  whirlpool  shan't  suck  me  under ;  I  shall  come  home 
just  your  old-fashioned  Rose-pose." 

"  I  hope  so,  dear,"  said  her  mother,  a  little  wistfully,  and 
called  the  children  in  to  supper. 

Indeed,  they  found  little  opportunity  to  miss  their  friends 
in  the  ensuing  months ;  for  there  came  kindly  letters,  and 
friendly  letters,  and  something  very  nearly  resembling 
love-letters.  The  mail  brought  papers,  books,  and  maga 
zines.  The  express  brought  to  Barton's  River  many  a 
box  of  lovely  flowers.  At  Christmas  came  more  than 


272  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

one  remembrance  for  them  all,  including  Aunt  Trypbosa 
and  Maria-Ann,  and  four  special  invitations  for  Rose  to 
visit  in  New  York  directly  after  the  holidays.  One  was 
from  Mr.  Clyde  —  with  an  urgent  request  from  Hazel  to 
say  "  yes  "  by  telegram  and  "  relieve  her  misery,"  so  she 
put  it  — ;  one  from  Mrs.  Heath ;  one  from  Aunt  Carrie, 
and  a  gushingly  cordial  one  from  Mrs.  Fenlick !  Each 
claimed  her  for  a  month.  But  Mrs.  Blossom  shook  her 
head. 

"  No,  no,  dear,  you  would  wear  your  welcome  out.  I 
shall  need  you  at  home  by  the  last  of  February.  I  think 
you  can  accept  only  Mr.  Clyde's  and  Mrs.  Heath's.  You 
can  accept  social  courtesies  from  the  other  four  of  course." 

"  But,  mother,"  Rose's  face  was  the  image  of  despair, 
"  what  shall  I  wear  ?  Just  hear  what  Hazel  has  planned 
— '  lunches,  dinners,  theatre,  concerts '  —  why  !  I  can  never 
go  to  all  those  things." 

"  I  've  thought  of  that,  too,  Rose ;  but  the  little  colt 
shan't  go  bare  this  time  —  it  will  take  some  courage,  dear, 
to  wear  the  same  things  over  and  over  again,  not  to  men 
tion  the  puzzle  of  planning  for  it  all." 

"  I  'm  not  '  Molly  Stark  '  for  nothing,"  laughed  Rose, 
and  the  two  women  began  to  plan  for  what  Chi  called 
"  Rose's  campaign."  The  pretty  white  serge  was  length 
ened  and  made  over  to  appear  more  grown  up,  as  Cherry 
put  it ;  the  dark  blue  wash  silk  —  Hazel's  gift  that  had 
never  been  made  up  —  was  fashioned  into  a  "  swell  affair  " 
—  so  March  pronounced  it;  the  old-fashioned  blue  lawn 
was  cut  over  into  a  dainty  full  waist,  and  then  Mrs. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  273 

Blossom  added  her  surprise  —  a  delicate  blue  taffeta  skirt 
to  match  the  waist.  Rose  went  into  raptures  over  it,  and 
sought  the  best  bedroom  regularly  three  times  a  day  to 
feast  her  girl's  eyes  on  the  silken  loveliness  as  it  lay  in 
state  on  the  best  bed.  A  new  dark  blue  serge  was  to  do 
duty  for  a  street  suit,  with  a  plain  felt  hat.  For  best, 
there  was  a  turban  made  of  dark  blue  velvet  to  match  the 
wash  silk. 

"  And  four  pairs  of  gloves !  Marti e  Blossom,  you  are 
an  angel,  to  give  me  these  that  Hazel  gave  you  a  year  ago 
last  Christmas.  Have  you  been  keeping  them  for  me  all 
this  time?" 

Mrs.  Blossom  smiled  assent,  and  was  rewarded  by  a 
squeeze  that  interfered  decidedly  with  her  breathing 
apparatus. 

The  night  before  she  left,  Rose  "  costumed "  for  the 
benefit  of  the  entire  family,  who  were  assembled  in  the 
long-room,  together  with  Aunt  Tryphosa  and  Maria-Ann, 
to  see  Rose  in  her  finery. 

"  I  '11  make  it  a  climax,"  said  Rose,  laughing  half- 
shamefacedly,  as  she  slipped  upstairs  to  change  her  street 
suit,  which  had  brought  forth  admiring  "  Ohs  "  and  "  Ahs  " 
from  the  children,  and  favorable  criticism  from  their  elders. 

Down  she  came  in  her  white  serge ;  there  were  nods 
and  smiles  of  approval. 

Her  reappearance  in  the  wash  silk  and  velvet  turban  was 
the  signal,  on  March's  part,  for  a  burst  of  applause,  and 
cries  of  admiration  from  Budd  and  Cherry. 

"  Grand  transformation  scene  !  "  cried  March,  as  Rose 

18 


274  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

tripped  down  in  the  blue  taffeta,  looking  like  a  very  rose 
herself. 

"  Beats  all ! "  murmured  Chi,  who  had  become  nearly 
speechless  with  admiration,  "  what  clothes  '11  do  for  a 
good-lookin'  woman ;  but  for  a  ravin',  tearin'  beauty  like 
our  Rose  —  George  Washin'ton  !  She  '11  open  those  high 
flyers'  eyes." 

"  Cinderella  —  fifth  act !  "  shouted  March  as,  after  a 
prolonged  wait,  he  heard  Rose  on  the  stairs. 

But  was  it  Rose  ? 

The  beautiful  India  mull  of  her  mother's  had  been 
transformed  into  a  ball-dress.  She  had  drawn  on  her 
long  white  gloves  and  tucked  into  the  simple,  ribbon  belt 
three  of  Jack's  Christmas  roses. 

Maria- Ann  gasped,  and  that  broke  the,  to  Rose,  some 
what  embarrassing  silence. 

Marshalled  by  March,  the  whole  family  formed  a  pro 
cession,  and  Rose  was  reviewed :  —  back  breadths,  front 
breadths,  flounces,  waist,  gloves;  all  were  thoroughly 
inspected. 

Chi  touched  the  lower  flounce  of  the  half-train  gingerly 
with  one  work-roughened  forefinger,  then,  straightening 
himself  suddenly,  sighed  heavily. 

"  What 's  the  matter,  Chi  ? "  Rose  laughed  at  the  du 
bious  expression  on  his  face. 

"  You  ain't  Rose  Blossom  nor  Molly  Stark  any  longer. 
You  're  just  a  regular  Empress  of  Rooshy,  'n'  you  don't 
look  like  that  girl  I  took  along  to  sell  berries  down  to 
Barton's  last  summer,  'n'  I  wish  you  -  "  he  hesitated. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  275 

"  What,  Chi  ?  "  said  Rose. 

"  I  wish  you  was  back  again,  old  sunbonnet,  old  calico 
gown,  patched  shoes  'n'  all  —  " 

"  Oh,  Chi,  no,  you  don't,"  said  Rose,  laughing  merrily ; 
"  you  forget,  I  shall  probably  see  Miss  Seaton  down  there 
in  New  York,  and  you  wouldn't  want  me  to  appear  a 
second  time  before  her  in  that  old  rig." 

"  You  're  right,  Rose-pose,"  replied  Chi,  his  expression 
brightening  visibly.  He  drew  close  to  her  and  whispered 
audibly  : 

"  Just  sail  right  in,  Molly  Stark,  'n'  cut  that  sassy  girl 
out  right  'n'  left.  She  never  could  hold  a  candle  to 
you." 

"  Sh-sh,  Chi !  "  said  Mrs.  Blossom,  meaningly,  but  with 
a  twinkle  in  her  eye. 

"  I  mean  just  what  I  say,  Mis'  Blossom.  Folks  can't 
come  up  here  on  this  Mountain  to  sass  us  to  our  faces,  'n' 
she  did;  —  I've  stayed  riled  ever  since,  'n'  I  hope  she'll 
get  sassed  back  in  a  way  that  '11  make  her  hair  stand  just 
a  little  more  on  end  than  it  did,  when  she  gave  that  mean, 
snickerin'  giggle  —  " 

"  Chi,  Chi,"  Mrs.  Blossom  interrupted  him  in  an  appeas 
ing  tone. 

"  You  need  n't  Chi  me,  Mis'  Blossom.  These  children 
are  just  as  near  to  me  as  if  they  was  my  own,  'n'  when 
they  're  sassed,  I  'm  sassed  too ;  'n'  my  great-grandfather 
fought  over  at  Ticonderogy,  'n'  I  ain't  bound  to  take  any 
more  sass  than  he  took  — 

By  this  time  the  whole  family  were  in  fits  of  laughter 


276  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

over  Chi's  persistent  use  of  so  much  "sass,"  and,  at  last, 
Chi  himself  joined  in  the  laugh  at  his  excessive  heat :  — 

"  Over  nothin'  but  a  wind-bag,  after  all,"  he  concluded. 

On  the  following  morning,  Mr.  Blossom,  Chi,  March 
and  Budd  drove  down  to  Barton's  to  see  Rose  off.  The 
old  apple-green  pung  had  been  fitted  with  two  broad 
boards  for  seats,  and  covered  with  buffalo  robes  and  horse 
blankets.  There  was  just  room  in  the  tail  for  Rose's  old- 
fashioned  trunk  and  a  small  strapped  box,  which  held  two 
dozen  of  new-laid  eggs,  six  small,  round  cheeses,  and  a 
wreath  of  ground  hemlock  and  bitter-sweet  —  a  neighborly 
gift  from  Aunt  Tryphosa  and  Maria-Ann  to  Hazel  and 
Mr.  Clyde. 

As  the  train  moved  away  from  the  station,  Chi  watched 
it  with  brimming  eyes. 

"She'll  never  come  back  the  same  Rose-pose,  livin' 
among  all  those  high-flyers  —  never,"  he  muttered  to  him 
self;  but  aloud  he  remarked,  with  forced  cheerfulness, 
turning  to  Mr.  Blossom  while  he  dashed  the  blinding 
drops  from  his  eyes  with  the  back  of  his  hand : 

"  Looks  mighty  like  a  thaw,  Ben ;  kind  of  wets  down, 
don't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Chi,"  said  Mr.  Blossom,  busy  with  conquering  his 
own  heartache,  "  we  'd  better  be  getting  on  home ;  "  and  the 
masculine  contingent  of  the  Blossom  household  climbed 
into  the  pung  and  took  their  way  homeward  in  silence. 

But  what  a  reception  that  was  for  the  transplanted 
Rose  ! 

Mr.  Clyde  met  her  at  the  Grand  Central  Station,  and 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  277 

Rose  felt  how  welcome  she  was  just  by  the  hand-clasp, 
and  his  first  words  : 

"  We  have  you  at  last,  Rose ;  I  would  n't  let  Hazel 
corne  because  I  thought  the  train  might  be  late,  and  there 's 
a  cold  rain  falling.  Martin,  take  this  box  —  " 

"  Oh,  no  ;  I  must  carry  that  myself,"  laughed  Rose, 
looking  up  at  the  liveried  footman  with  something  like 
awe.  "I  promised  Aunt  Tryphosa  and  Maria-Ann  I 
would  n't  let  any  one  take  them  till  they  were  safe  in  the 
house ;  thank  you,"  she  bowed  courteously  to  Martin,  who 
confided  to  the  coachman  so  soon  as  they  were  on  the  box : 
"  Hi  'ave  n't  seen  nothink  so  'ansome  since  Hi  've  bean  in 
the  States." 

As  the  brougham  whirled  into  the  Avenue,  and  the 
electric  lights  shone  full  into  the  carriage,  Rose  could  see 
the  luxuriously  upholstered  interior,  and  a  sudden  thought 
of  the  old  apple-green  pung  and  the  buffalo  robes  dimmed 
her  eyes.  But  it  was  only  for  a  moment ;  Mr.  Clyde  was 
telling  her  of  Hazel's  impatience,  and  how  the  coachman 
had  had  special  orders  from  her  to  hurry  up  so  soon  as  he 
should  be  on  the  Avenue,  and  he  had  hardly  finished 
before  the  coachman  drew  rein,  slackening  his  rapid  pace 
as  he  turned  a  corner,  Martin  was  opening  the  door,  and 
Hazel's  voice  was  calling  from  a  wide  house  entrance 
flooded  with  soft  light : 

"  Oh,  Rose,  my  Rose  !     Is  it  really  you,  at  last  ?  " 

"And  this,  I  am  sure,  is  Wilkins,"  said  Rose,  when 
finally  Hazel  set  her  arms  free.  "  We  've  heard  so  much 
of  you,  that  I  feel  as  if  I  had  known  you  a  long  time." 


278  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Rose  held  out  her  hand  with  such  sincere  cordiality  that 
Wilkins'  speech  was  suddenly  reduced  to  pantomime,  and 
he  could  only  extend  his  other  hand  rather  helplessly 
towards  the  box  that  Rose  still  carried.  But  Rose  refused 
to  yield  it  up. 

"  Here,  Hazel,  I  promised  Maria- Ann  and  Aunt  Tryphosa 
I  would  n't  give  it  into  any  hands  but  yours.  Oh !  be 
careful  —  they  're  eggs  !  " 

"  Eggs !  "  repeated  Hazel,  laughing.  "  Here,  Wilkins, 
unstrap  it  for  me,  quick  —  Oh,  papa,  look  !  "  She  held  out 
the  box  to  Mr.  Clyde,  and,  somehow,  John  Curtis  Clyde 
for  a  moment  thought  with  Chi,  that  there  was  going  to 
be  a  "thaw."  Each  egg  was  rolled  in  white  cotton  bat 
ting  and  wrapped  in  pink  tissue  paper.  The  six  little 
cheeses  were  enclosed  in  tin-foil,  and  cheeses  and  eggs 
were  embedded  in  the  Christmas  wreath.  On  a  piece  of 
pasteboard  was  written  in  unsteady  characters : 

To  Mr.  John   Curtis  Clyde  of   New  York   City,   with   the 
season's  compliments. 
MOUNT  HUNGER,  VERMONT,  January  6th,  1898. 

"And  you've  had  such  lovely  flowers  come  for  you, 
five  boxes  of  them,  Rose,  and  piles  of  invitations.  I  'm 
sure  you  're  engaged  up  to  Ash  Wednesday." 

"  Come,  Chatterbox,"  said  her  father,  smiling  at  her 
volubility,  "  Rose  has  just  time  to  dress  for  dinner ;  you 
know  Aunt  Carrie  and  Uncle  Jo  are  coming  to-night." 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  all  about  them ;  you  '11  have  to  hurry, 
Rose.  Wilkins,  bring  up  the  flowers.  Come  on," 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  279 

Hazel  ran  up  the  broad  flight  of  stairs,  carpeted  with 
velvety  crimson,  to  the  first  landing,  from  which,  through 
a  lofty  arch  in  the  hall,  Rose  caught  a  glimpse  of  softly 
lighted  rooms,  the  walls  enriched  with  engravings  and 
etchings,  with  here  and  there  a  landscape  or  marine 
in  watercolors.  Rose  drew  a  long  breath.  This,  then, 
was  what  Chi  meant  when  he  said  "  Hazel  was  rich  as 
Croesus." 

"  But,  Hazel,  my  trunk  has  n't  come,"  said  Rose,  as  she 
followed  her  hostess  into  the  spacious  bedroom,  which  was 
separated  from  Hazel's  only  by  a  dressing-room. 

"  It  11  be  here  in  a  few  minutes ;  papa  has  a  special 
man,  who  always  delivers  them  almost  as  soon  as  we  get 
here." 

Sure  enough,  the  trunk  came  in  time ;  and  Rose,  as  she 
unpacked,  finding  evidences  of  the  loving  mother-care  in 
every  fold,  cried  within  her  heart,  looking  about  at  the 
exquisite  appointments  of  her  room  and  dressing-room : 

"  Martie,  Martie,  what  would  all  this  be  without  you  !  — 
Oh,  I  know  now,  what  dear  old  Chi  meant  when  he  said 
Hazel  was  poor  where  we  are  rich  —  only  a  housekeeper 
to  see  to  all  Hazel's  things  —  " 

"  Rose,  what  flowers  are  you  going  to  wear  ? "  called 
Hazel  from  her  room. 

"  I  have  n't  had  time  to  look,"  Rose  called  back,  survey 
ing  her  white  serge  with  great  satisfaction  in  the  pier- 
glass. 

"  Do  look,  then,  and  see  who  they  're  from." 

"  Oh,  Hazel,  do  come  and  see.     How  kind  everybody 


280  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

has  been!  Here  are  cards  from  Mrs.  Heath  and  Doctor 
Heath,  and  your  Aunt  Carrie,  and  Mr.  Sherrill,  and  Mrs. 
Fenlick,  and  even  that  Mr.  Grayson  who  was  up  at  our 
house  to  tea  a  year  ago ! " 

"  They  are  lovely.     Whose  are  you  going  to  wear  ?  " 

"  I  '11  make  up  a  bunch  of  one  or  two  from  each,  that 
will  show  my  appreciation  of  all  their  favors." 

Hazel  looked  slightly  crestfallen.  "  I  hoped  you  'd  wear 
Jack's  —  they  're  the  loveliest  with  white  —  ''  she  lifted 
the  white  lilacs  —  "  and  they  're  so  rare  just  now.  I  heard 
Aunt  Carrie  say  that  one  of  the  girls  had  put  off  her  wed 
ding  for  six  weeks,  just  because  she  couldn't  have  white 
lilacs  for  it." 

"  They  '11  last  with  care  three  days  surely,  and  I  can 
wear  them  to-morrow  evening,"  replied  Rose,  bending  to 
inhale  their  delicate  fragrance. 

"  So  you  can,  for  papa  is  going  to  give  a  dinner  for  you 
to-morrow  night,  and  afterwards,  he  has  promised  to  take 
you  to  a  dance  at  Mrs.  Pearsell's.  I  can't  go,  you  know, 
for  I  'm  not  grown  up ;  but  you  can  tell  me  all  about  it. 
We  're  going  to  have  lots  of  fun  this  week,  for  school  does 
not  begin  for  several  days.  Come." 

Together  they  went  down  to  the  drawing-room,  and 
Wilkins  announced  that  dinner  was  served. 

After  it  was  over  he  sought  Minna-Lu  in  her  own 
domains,  and  gave  vent  to  his  long  pent  emotions. 

"  Minna-Lu,"  he  whispered,  mysteriously,  "  dere  's  an 
out  an'  out  angel  ben  hubberin'  'bout  de  table - 

"  Fo'  de  Lawd !  "     Minna-Lu  turned  upon  him  fiercely, 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  281 

for  she  was  superstitious  to  the  very  marrow.  "  Wa'  fo' 
yo'  come  hyar,  skeerin'  de  bref  out  a  mah  bones  wif  yo' 
sp'r'ts  !  Yo'  go  long  home  wha'  yo'  b'long." 

But  Wilkins  was  not  to  be  repulsed  in  this  manner. 
"  Nebber  see  seen  ha'r,  an'  jes'  lillum- white  —  " 

"  Oh,  go  'long !  Lillum-white  ha'r,"  interrupted  Minna-Lu, 
with  scathing  sarcasm.  "Huccome  yo'  know  de  angels 
hab  lillum-white  ha'r?" 

"Huccome  I  know?  —  'Case  I  see  de  shine,  jes'  lake 
yo'  see  in  de  dror'n-room." 

"  De  shine  ob  lillum-white  ha'r  in  de  dror'n-room ! 
'Pears  lake  yo'  head  struck  ile  —  " 

"Yo'  hoi'  yo'  tongue,  Minna-Lu,"  retorted  Wilkins, 
irritated  at  the  continued  evidence  of  disbelief  on  the  part 
of  his  coadjutor.  "  Jes'  yo'  hide  back  ob  de  dumb-waitah 
to-morrah  ebenin'  when  de  dessert  comes  on,  an'  see  fo' 
yo'se'f ! "  He  departed  in  high  dudgeon,  and  Minna-Lu 
gurgled  long  and  low  to  herself,  but,  in  her  turn,  was 
interrupted  by  the  sound  of  tripping  steps  on  the  base 
ment  flight. 

Minna-Lu  hastily  put  her  fat  hands  up  to  her  turban  to 
see  if  it  were  on  straight,  and  smoothed  her  apron,  mutter 
ing: 

"  Clar  to  goodness,  ef  it  ain't  jes'  mah  luck  to  hab  little 
Missus  come  into  dis  yere  hen-roost  ?  "  she  rapidly  surveyed 
her  immaculate  kitchen  with  anxious  eye. 

"  Minna-Lu,  this  is  my  friend,  Miss  Rose ;  the  one  who 
did  up  those  lovely  preserves,  and  here  are  some  new-laid 
eggs  and  some  cheeses  that  Miss  Maria- Ann  Simmons — 


282  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

you  know  I  told  you  all  about  her  and  the  hens  —  has 
sent  papa." 

Miuna-Lu  gazed  at  Rose  in  open  admiration.  The  faith 
ful  colored  retainer  had  her  thorny  side  and  her  blossom 
one. 

Rose  put  out  her  hand,  and  Minna-Lu  took  it  in  both 
hers.  "  I  'se  mighty  glad  yo'  come,  Miss  Rose,  dere  ain't 
no  strawberry-blossom  nor  no  rose-blossom  can  hoi'  a  can'le 
to  yo'  own  honey  se'f.  Dese  yere  cheeses  is  prime."  She 
examined  one  with  the  nose  of  a  connoisseur.  "  Jes'  fill 
de  bill  wif  de  salad-chips  to-morrah."  She  stemmed  her 
fists  on  her  hips,  and  her  mellow,  contented  gurgle  caused 
Rose  and  Hazel  to  laugh,  too. 

"  What  is  it,  Minna-Lu  ?  "  said  Hazel,  reading  the  signs 
of  the  times. 

"  Dat  Wilkins  done  tol'  me  to  git  back  ob  de  dumb- 
waitah,  to-morrah  ebenin'  to  see  Missy  Rose,  but  I  'se 
gwine  to  ask  rale  straight  to  jes'  see  her  'fo'  de  comp'ny 
come." 

"  Of  course  you  may.  Come  up  to  my  room  about  seven, 
and  we  '11  be  ready." 

"  Fo'  sho',''  said  Minna-Lu,  with  beaming  face. 

"  Good-night,"  said  Rose,  beaming,  too,  for  she  found  the 
black  faces  and  ways  irresistibly  amusing. 

"  De  Lawd  bress  yo'  lily  face,  Missy  Rose." 

When  the  two  girls  were  alone,  at  last,  in  Hazel's  room, 
there  was  no  thought  of  bed  for  an  hour.  There  were 
numberless  questions  on  Hazel's  part  concerning  all  the 
dear  Mount  Hunger  people,  and  speechless  astonishment 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  283 

on  Rose's  at  the  number  of  invitations  that  were  waiting 
for  her.  They  chatted  all  the  time  they  were  undressing, 
calling  back  and  forth  to  each  other  as  one  thing  or  another 
suggested  itself.  Finally,  Hazel  made  her  appearance  in 
Rose's  room.  She  went  up  to  her,  put  her  arms  about 
her  neck,  and,  looking  up  with  eyes  full  of  loving  trust, 
said: 

"  Rose-pose,  won't  you  come  into  my  room  and  say  '  Our 
Father  '  with  me  as  Mother  Blossom  used  to  do  on  Mount 
Hunger?  You  can't  think  how  I  miss  it." 

"  Why,  Hazel  darling,  of  course  I  will  —  then  I  shan't 
feel  homesick  missing  that  precious  Martie." 

She  followed  Hazel  into  her  room,  and  after  she  was  in 
bed,  Rose  knelt  by  her  side,  and  together  they  said,  "  Our 
Father."  Then  Rose  bent  over  to  receive  Hazel's  loving 
kiss  and  whispered,  "  Oh,  Rose,  I  'm  so  happy  to  have  you 
here,"  and  whispered  back,  "  And  I  'm  so  happy  to  be  with 
you,  Hazel  —  good-night." 

"  Good-night." 

Rose  went  back  to  her  room.  At  last  she  was  alone. 
She  drew  one  of  the  easy-chairs  up  before  the  wood-fire 
that  was  dying  down,  put  her  bare  feet  on  the  warm  fender, 
and,  for  a  while,  dreamed  waking  dreams.  It  was  all  so 
strange.  The  cathedral  clock  on  the  mantel  chimed  twelve. 
They  were  all  asleep  in  the  farmhouse  on  the  Mountain  — 
it  was  time  for  her  to  be.  She  rose,  tiptoed  softly  into  the 
dressing-room,  took  from  the  bowl  the  spray  of  white  lilacs 
she  had  worn  with  the  other  flowers  that  evening,  shook 
off  the  water,  and  drew  the  stem  through  a  buttonhole  in 


284  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

the  yoke  of  her  simple  night-dress.  She  tiptoed  back  again 
into  her  room,  looked  up  at  the  dainty,  canopied  bed,  then 
laid  herself  down  within  it,  and,  almost  immediately,  fell 
asleep  —  with  her  hand  resting  on  the  white  fragrance  that 
lay  upon  her  heart. 


XXIII 

BEHOLD  HOW  GREAT  A  MATTER  A  LITTLE  FIRE  KLNDLETH 

IT  was  so  delightful !  The  weeks  were  passing  all  too 
quickly,  and  the  letters  to  Mount  Hunger  waxed  eloquent 
in  praise  of  everybody's  kindness. 

Jack  had  come  on  to  lead  a  cotillion  with  Rose  at  Aunt 
Carrie's.  It  was  a  weighty  affair  —  the  selecting  of  the 
flowers  for  her.  White  violets  they  must  be,  and  white 
violets  were  about  as  rare  as  white  raspberries.  Jack  gave 
the  florist  his  own  address. 

"  I  '11  see  them,  myself,  before  I  send  them  up ;  for  I 
won't  trust  anyone's  eyes  but  my  own,"  he  said  to  himself 
as  he  hurried  home  to  dress  for  dinner  with  a  friend.  "  I 
wish  I  had  n't  promised  Grayson  to  meet  him  at  the  Club 
before  seven.  I  'm  afraid  they  won't  come  in  time."  He 
looked  at  his  watch.  "  I  'm  going  to  make  them  a  test  — 
and  see  what  she  '11  do.  She  's  so  friendly  and  frank  and 
all  that,  I  can't  find  out  even  whether  she  's  beginning  to 
care." 

Jack's  absorption  in  the  theme  was  such  that  he  put  his 
latch-key  in  wrong-side  up,  and,  in  consequence,  wrestled 
with  the  lock  till  he  had  worked  himself  into  a  fever  of 
impatience ;  finally  he  touched  the  button  before  he  dis 
covered  the  trouble. 


286  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"Any  packages  come  for  me,  Jason?"  he  inquired  of 
the  butler,  whose  dignified  manner  of  locomotion  had  been 
rudely  shaken  by  Jack's  unceasing  pressure  on  the  electric- 
bell. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  John.     Just  taken  a  box  up  to  the  rooms." 

Jack  looked  relieved,  and  sprang  upstairs  two  steps  at 
a  time.  He  opened  the  box.  There  they  were  in  all  their 
exquisite  freshness.  "  Like  her,"  he  thought,  touching  his 
lips  to  them ;  then,  suddenly  straightening  himself,  he  felt 
the  blood  surge  into  his  face. 

"I  like  Dord's  way  of  putting  up  his  flowers,  no 
tags,  nor  fol-de-rols.  Jason,"  he  said,  as  he  ran  down 
stairs  again,  "I  shall  be  back  in  an  hour;  tell  Thomas 
to  have  everything  laid  out  —  I  'm  in  a  hurry.  And 
have  a  messenger-boy  here  when  I  come  back,  and 
don't  forget  to  order  the  carriage  for  quarter  of  eight, 
sharp." 

"  Yes,  Mr.  John." 

"Messenger-boy  come?"  he  inquired  as  Jason  opened 
the  door  on  his  return. 

"  Yes,  sir,  waiting  in  the  hall." 

Jack  raced  up  stairs.  There  was  the  precious  box  on 
his  dressing-table.  He  hastily  took  a  visiting  card,  and, 
writing  on  it  the  sentiment  that  was  uppermost  in  his 
heart,  slipped  it  into  the  envelope,  gave  it,  together  with 
the  box,  to  the  waiting  boy,  and  bade  him  hand  it  to  the 
man,  Wilkins,  with  the  request  that  it  be  sent  up  at  once 
to  the  lady  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  Then  he  made 
read}*  for  dinner. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  287 

An  hour  later,  Rose  was  dressing  for  the  dance,  and 
Hazel  was  watching  her,  chatting  volubly  all  the  while. 

"  That 's  the  loveliest  dress,  Rose,  I  heard  Aunt  Carrie 
say,  you  couldn't  buy  such,  nowadays." 

"It  was  Martie's  wedding-dress.  An  uncle  of  her 
mother's,  who  was  a  sea-captain,  brought  it  from  India. 
But  if  I  wear  it  many  more  times,  it  will  be  known 
throughout  the  length  of  New  York.  This  is  my  sixth 
time." 

"  I  should  n't  care  if  it  were  the  hundredth ;  it 's  just 
lovely.  Besides,  Jack  has  n't  seen  it,  you  know." 

Rose  laughed.  "  Oh,  yes,  he  has  —  on  Martie ;  that 
night  of  the  tea  on  the  porch." 

"  Oh,  well,  that 's  different.  What  flowers  are  you  go 
ing  to  wear  ?  " 

"I  thought  I  wouldn't  wear  any,  just  for  a  change." 
Rose's  face  was  veiled  by  the  shining  hair,  which  she  was 
brushing,  preparatory  to  coiling  it  high  on  her  head ;  other 
wise,  Hazel  would  have  seen  the  clear  flush  that  warmed 
even  the  roots  of  the  soft  waves  at  the  nape  of  her  neck. 
Just  then  there  was  a  knock.  The  maid  opened  the  door, 
and  Wilkins'  voice  was  distinctly  audible :  — 

"  Jes'  come  fo'  Miss  Rose ;  dey  wuz  to  come  up  right 
smart,  so  de  boy  say." 

"  Oh,  more  flowers.  Who  from  ?  "  cried  Hazel,  eagerly, 
while  Wilkins  strained  his  ears  to  catch  the  reply. 

"From  Mr.  Sherrill,"  said  Rose,  opening  the  little 
envelope. 

What  she  read  on  the  card  caused  the  blood  to  mount 


288  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

higher  and  higher,  till  temples  and  forehead  flushed  pink, 
then  as  suddenly  to  recede. 

"May  I  open  them,  Rose,  and  won't  you  wear  some  if 
they  're  from  Jack  ?  " 

"  Yes,"   said  Rose,  simply.     The  two  girls  leaned  over 
the  box  as  Hazel  took  off  the  wrapper  —  then  the  cover  — 
then  the  inner  tissue  papers  —  then  — 

Suddenly  a  shriek  of  laughter,  followed  by  another,  pene 
trated  to  Wilkins,  who  was  lingering  on  the  stairs  ;  he 
came  softly  back  again.  Peal  after  peal  of  wild  merriment 
issued  from  Rose's  room.  Within,  Rose  in  her  petticoat 
and  bodice  had  flung  herself  on  the  bed  in  an  ecstasy 
of  mirth,  and  Hazel  was  rolling  over  on  the  rug  as  was 
the  wont  of  Budd  and  Cherry  in  the  old  days  on  Mount 
Hunger.  The  maid  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  and,  no 
longer  able  to  keep  from  joining  in  the  merriment,  although 
she  did  not  know  the  cause,  left  the  room,  only  to  find 
Wilkins  with  perturbed  face  just  outside  the  door. 

"  'Pears  lake  dere  wor  sumfin'  queah  'bout  dat  ye  re 
box  —  "  he  began ;  but  the  maid  only  shook  with  laughter 
and  laid  her  finger  on  her  lips,  motioning  him  into  the 
back  hall. 

"  Did  you  ever?"  cried  Hazel,  when  she  recovered  her 
breath. 

"  No,  I  never,"  said  Rose,  wiping  away  the  tears,  for  she 
had  laughed  till  she  cried.  "  Let 's  take  another  look." 

They  bent  over  the  box,  and  took  out  its  contents ;  then 
went  off  again  into  fits  of  seemingly  inextinguishable 
laughter :  for,  neatly  folded  beneath  the  tissue  paper,  lay 


\ 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  289 

four  sets  of  Jack's  new  light-weight,  white  silk  pajamas, 
which  he  had  purchased  that  afternoon,  in  order  to  take 
back  to  Cambridge  with  him.  On  the  card,  which  Rose  still 
held  in  her  hand,  was  written,  "  Wear  these  for  my  sake." 

"  What  will  you  say  to  him,  Rose  ?  "  said  Hazel,  sitting 
up  on  the  rug  with  her  hands  clasped  about  her  knees. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Rose,  proceeding  to  dress.  "  I 
can't  wear  them,  that 's  certain."  And  again  the  absurdity 
of  the  situation  presented  itself  to  her.  "And  I  can't 
apologize  for  not  wearing  them.  Neither  can  I  take  it  for 
granted  that  he  was  going  to  send  me  flowers,  and  explain 
that  he  sent  me  these  instead." 

"  How  awfully  careless,"  said  Hazel,  interrupting  her ; 
"  he  must  have  had  something  on  his  mind  not  to  take  the 
pains  to  look,  even." 

Rose  flushed.  "  It  will  be  best  to  let  the  matter  drop, 
and  say  nothing  about  it,"  she  replied  in  a  cool,  toploftical 
tone  that  amazed,  as  well  as  mystified,  her  little  hostess. 

"  Why,  Rose,  I  think  Jack  ought  to  know  about  it. 
I  '11  tell  him,  if  you  don't  want  to." 

"  Thank  you,  Hazel,  but  I  don't  need  your  good  offices 
in  this  matter." 

Hazel  rose  from  the  rug,  and  going  over  to  Rose,  laid 
both  hands  on  her  shoulders  and  looked  straight  up  into 
her  eyes. 

"  Now,  Rose  Blossom,  please  don't  speak  to  me  in  that 
way.  You  're  so  queer !  First  you  're  nice  about  Jack, 
and  then  you  're  horrid ;  and  when  you  're  that  way,  you 
are  n't  nice  to  me  a  bit  —  and  I  don't  like  it,  and  I  don't 

19 


290  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

blame  Jack  for  not  liking  it  either,"  she  added  emphati 
cally.  "  I  remember  papa  said  a  year  ago  that  Jack  was 
'  all  heart '  for  a  good  many  girls,  old  and  young  —  but  I 
can  tell  you  what,  he  won't  have  any  for  you,  if  you  whiff 
round  so." 

Hazel  in  her  earnestness  gave  Rose  a  little  shake.  Rose 
smiled,  and,  bending  her  head,  kissed  her,  saying,  "  F.  and 
F.  and  you  know,  Hazel." 

"  Oh,  I  know  all  about  '  forgiving  and  forgetting,'  but 
I  don't  like  it  just  the  same.  He's  my  cousin  and  the 
dearest  fellow  in  the  world,  and  I  don't  like  to  have  him 
treated  so." 

"  How  about  his  treating  me  ?  "  said  Rose,  pointing  to 
the  innocent  box  of  underwear,  "  forgetting  even  to  look; 
or  not  caring  enough,  to  see  if  I  had  the  right  package  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that 's  different  —  perhaps  the  florist  made  a 
mistake." 

"The  florist!"  Rose  laughed  merrily.  "I  never  knew 
that  gentlemen's  underwear  and  roses  grew  on  the  same 
bush.  —  There  's  Wilkins,  and  I  'm  not  ready." 

"  De  coachman  say  it 's  a  pow'f  ul  col'  night,  an'  Miss 
Rose  bettah  take  some  mo'  wraps." 

"  Thank  you,  Wilkins,"  Hazel  flew  into  the  dressing- 
room  for  a  long  fur  cloak  of  her  mother's  which  she  had 
used  to  wear  to  the  dancing-classes.  She  wrapped  it 
about  Rose,  who  stooped  suddenly  and  kissed  her  again, 
whispering,  "  Hazel,  you  've  all  spoiled  me,  that 's  what 's 
the  matter,  —  but  I  '11  be  good  to  Jack,  for  your  sake  as 
well  as  for  my  own." 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  291 

"  Now  you  're  what  Doctor  Heath  calls  papa,  the  most 
splendid  fellow  in  the  world.  There  now  —  I  won't  crush 
your  gown  —  "  A  kiss  —  "  Good-night.  You  look  like 
an  angel ! " 

Mr.  Clyde  thought  so,  too,  as  he  watched  her  coming 
downstairs.  She  slipped  off  the  cloak  as  she  stood  beneath 
the  soft,  but  brilliant  hall  lights.  "  Do  I  look  all  right  ?  " 
she  asked  earnestly,  for  she  had  fallen  into  the  habit,  before 
going  anywhere  with  him  or  Hazel,  of  asking  for  their 
criticism. 

"  I  should  say  so  —  but  where  are  the  flowers  ?  I  miss 
them." 

"I  thought  I  wouldn't  wear  any  to-night,  just  for  a 
change." 

"  A  woman's  whim,  Rose.  But  I  can't  say  that  you 
need  them  —  Now,  what 's  to  pay  ?  "  he  said  to  himself, 
as  he  helped  her  into  the  carriage.  "  I  saw  Jack  at  Dord's 
this  afternoon,  and,  evidently,  something  was  in  the  wind. 
I  hope  it  has  n't  been  taken  out  of  his  sails." 

"  Sumfin'  mighty  queah  'bout  dat  yere  box,"  murmured 
Wilkins  to  himself,  as  he  closed  the  door,  "  but  Miss  Rose 
doan'  need  no  flow's.  Nebber  see  sech  h  —  Fo'  de  good 
Lawd  1  Wha'  fo'  yo'  hyar  ?  Yo'  Minna-Lu,  —  skeerin' 
mah  day-lights  out  o'  mah,  shoolin'  'roun'  b'hin'  dat  por' 
chair,  —  jes'  lake  bug'lahs." 

Minna-Lu  gurgled.  "  Yo'  jes'  straight,  Wilkins ;  nebber 
see  sech  ha'r.  Huccome  I  'se  hyar?  Jes'  to  see  dat  lillum- 
white  angel  —  " 

"  Yo'  go  'long,  wha'  yo'  b'long,"  growled  Wilkins,  not 


292  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

yet  having  recovered  from  his  fright.  And  Minna-Lu 
went,  with  the  radiant  vision  still  before  her  round,  black 
eyes. 

Jack  felt  a  queer  tightening  about  his  lower  jaw,  and 
one  heart-throb,  apparently  in  his  throat,  as  he  entered 
Aunt  Carrie's  reception-roorn.  Then,  as  with  one  glance 
he  swept  Rose  from  the  crown  of  her  head  to  the  hem  of 
her  dress,  a  hot,  rushing  wave  of  indignant  feeling  mas 
tered  him  —  he  knew  he  had  staked  his  all  (so  a  man  at 
twenty-two  is  apt  to  think)  and  lost.  He  braced  himself, 
mentally  and  physically.  He  was  n't  going  to  show  the 
white-feather  —  not  he. 

But  Rose  —  Rose  was  mystifying,  captivating,  cordial, 
merry,  and  altogether  charming.  She  knocked  out  all 
Jack's  calculations  as  to  life,  love,  women,  girls  in  general, 
and  one  girl  in  particular,  at  one  fell  swoop.  He  was 
brought,  necessarily,  into  unstable  equilibrium,  so  far  as 
his  feelings  were  concerned  —  his  head  he  was  obliged 
to  keep  level  on  account  of  the  various  figures.  Several 
other  heads  were  variously  askew,  and  would  have  been 
turned,  likewise,  for  good  and  all,  had  the  wearer  of  her 
mother's  India-mull  wedding-dress  been  possessed  of  a 
fortune. 

Rose  developed  social  powers  that  evening  that  furnished 
food  for  conversation  for  Aunt  Carrie  and  Mr.  Clyde,  who 
watched  her  with  pride  and  pleasure.  She  was  evidently 
enjoying  herself  thoroughly,  and  her  enjoyment  proved 
contagious. 

"  After   all,"  said   Jack   as,  between  figures,  he  found 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  293 

opportunity  for  a  whispered  word  or  two ;  "  this  is  n't 
half  so  fine  a  dance  as  the  one  in  the  barn,  last  September." 

"  Why,  that 's  just  what  I  was  thinking,  myself,  that 
very  minute ! " 

"  You  were  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

The  brown  eyes  and  the  blue  ones  met  with  such  evi 
dence  of  a  perfect  understanding,  that  Jack  failed  to  see 
Maude  Seaton,  who  had  approached  him  for  the  purpose 
of  taking  him  out  in  the  four-in-hand. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Jack,  starting  to  his  feet, 
"  it 's  the  '  four-in-hand.' " 

"  Yes,  and  I  think  you  '11  have  to  be  put  into  the  traces 
again,"  she  said,  with  a  meaning  smile. 

"  Not  I,"  retorted  Jack,  merrily,  "  I  kicked  over  them 
nearly  a  year  ago." 

"  So  I  heard,"  replied  Miss  Seaton,  sweetly ;  and  Jack 
wondered  what  she  meant. 

When  Jack  found  himself  again  beside  Rose,  he  decided 
that,  flowers  or  no  flowers,  he  would  ask  for  an  explana 
tion.  But  his  first  attempt  was  met  with  such  a  bewil- 
deringly  merry  smile,  and  such  confident  assurance  that 
explanations  were  not  in  order,  that  it  proved  a  successful 
failure. 

When,  at  last,  in  the  early  morning  hours  he  was  seated 
before  the  open  fire  in  his  bedroom,  pulling  away  reflec 
tively  at  his  pipe,  he  had  time  to  think  it  over.  He  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  trivial  in  him  to  have  staked 
his  all  on  her  wearing  those  flowers,  for  she  certainly  — 


294  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

certainly  had  led  him  to  think  that  she  was  anything  but 
indifferent  to  him. 

"  That  look  now,"  mused  Jack.  "  I  don't  believe  that 
a  girl  like  Rose  Blossom  would  look  that  way  if  she 
didn't  mean  it  —  if  she  did  n't  care.  No  other  girl  could 
look  that  way."  He  reached  for  his  watch  on  the  dressing- 
case.  "  I  shall  get  good  two  hours'  sleep  before  that  early 
train. — What's  that?"  He  noticed  for  the  first  time, 
that  on  the  bed  lay  a  familiar-looking  box  in  a  brown 
paper  wrapper.  In  a  trice  he  had  broken  the  string, 
whisked  off  the  cover,  scattered  the  tissue  paper  right  and 
left.  —  There  lay  the  violets,  white,  and  sweet,  and  almost 
as  fresh  as  when  he  gave  them  his  virgin  kiss  nearly  twelve 
hours  before. 

Jack  sat  down  stupefied  on  the  bed.  What  had  he 
given  her,  anyway?  He  thought  intensely  for  a  full 
minute. 

"  Great  Scott !  the  pajamas  !  "  And  then  Jack  Sherrill 
rolled  over  on  the  bed,  ignoring  the  damage  to  dress  suit 
and  violets,  and,  burying  his  face  in  the  pillow,  gave  vent 
to  a  smothered  yell. 

There  was  a  merry  exchange  of  notes  between  Cam 
bridge  and  New  York  during  the  next  two  weeks,  and 
Rose  had  promised  to  wear  any  flowers  —  and  only  his  — 
he  might  send  her  for  the  ball  at  Mrs.  Fenlick's  the  middle 
of  February,  and  for  which  Jack  was  coming  on.  It  would 
occur  during  the  last  week  of  Rose's  visit,  and  Jack 
thought  that  possibly  —  possibly,  —  well,  he  could  n't  de 
fine  just  what  "  possibly ; "  but  it  proved  to  be  an  infinitely 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  295 

absorbing  one,  and  Jack  felt  it  was  "now  or  never"  with 
him. 

Mrs.  Heath  had  claimed  Rose  as  her  guest  for  the  last 
three  weeks,  and  the  days  were  filled  with  pleasures.  On 
the  Saturday  before  the  ball,  and  a  week  before  Rose  was 
to  return  to  Mount  Hunger,  two  seats  in  a  box  at  the 
opera  had  been  sent  in  to  Mrs.  Heath  from  a  friend. 

"  Look  at  these,  Rose  !  "  Mrs.  Heath  exclaimed,  showing 
her  the  note.  "  Just  exactly  what  you  were  wishing  to 
hear,  and  we  thought  we  could  not  arrange  it  for  next 
week.  That  opera  has  been  changed  for  to-day's  matine'e, 
and  now  you  can  hear  both  Lohengrin  and  Siegfried." 

Rose  clapped  her  hands.  "  I  've  just  longed  to  hear 
Lohengrin  ;  Mrs.  Ford  and  her  son  have  played  60  much 
of  it  to  me.  I  think  it's  perfectly  beautiful." 

"  I  'm  so  sorry  I  can't  go,  dear ;  but  I  made  a  positive 
engagement  for  this  afternoon  and  it  must  not  be  broken. 
But  I  '11  send  round  for  Cousin  Anna  May.  She  does  n't 
care  much  for  the  opera,  but  she  will  chaperone  you. 
She  's  not  much  of  a  talker  either,  so  you  can  enjoy  the 
music  in  peace.  People  chatter  so  abominably  there." 

From  the  moment  the  orchestra  sounded  the  first  notes 
of  that  pathetic  and  thrillingly  appealing  fore-word  of  the 
overture,  Rose  was  lost  to  the  world  about  her.  She  was 
glad  of  the  darkness,  glad  no  one  could  see  or  notice  her 
intense  absorption  in  the  opening  scene.  Even  when  the 
lights  were  turned  on  between  the  acts,  and  the  subdued 
murmur  in  the  house  rose  to  a  confusing  babble,  she  was 
living  in  the  story  of  Elsa  and  her  lover  Knight.  Elderly 


296  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Cousin  Anna  May,  seeing  this,  let  her  alone,  thinking  to 
herself :  —  "  One  has  to  be  young  to  be  so  enthusiastic 
over  this  wornout  theme." 

The  curtain  fell ;  the  house  was  brilliant  with  lights ; 
confusion  of  talk,  confusion  of  merry  chat  and  laughter 
were  all  about  Rose ;  but  she  sat  unheeding,  wondering 
if  the  element  of  evil  would  be  turned  into  a  factor  of 
good.  Her  heart  was  aching  with  the  intensity  of  feeling 
for  the  two  lovers.  Suddenly,  a  few  words  behind  her 
arrested  her  attention.  She  sat  with  her  back  to  the 
speakers  —  two  girls  in  the  next  box,  who  had  annoyed 
her  more  than  once  by  their  ceaseless,  whispering  gabble. 

"  I  told  Maude  I  did  n't  believe  it." 

"What  did  she  say?" 

"  She  said  it  was  gospel  truth." 

"  Do  tell  me  what  it  was,  I  won't  tell." 

"Sure?" 

"Not  a  soul." 

"  Promise  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course.     They  say  he  's  got  oceans  of  money." 

"  Piles  — .  He  's  got  his  mother's  fortune  and  will  have 
his  father's.  Besides,  his  Uncle  Gray  is  a  bachelor,  and 
so  Jack  will  have  that,  too.  Maude  says  he  's  the  best 
catch  in  New  York." 

"  I  heard  Sam  say  he  was  in  an  awfully  fast  set  in  col 
lege  ;  but  Sam  likes  him  awfully  well.  Have  you  seen 
him?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  lots.  Maude  let  me  see  him  one  night 
before  dinner  at  Newport.  I  used  to  see  him  playing 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  297 

polo  at  the  grounds.  I  think  he  's  fascinating  —  just  like 
Lohengrin." 

"  But  what  was  it  ?     Hurry  up,  do." 

"  You  '11  never  tell  ?  " 

"  Never." 

The  voice  was  slightly  lowered  —  confused  with  the 
munching  of  Huyler's  ;  and  Rose,  with  hypersensitive 
hearing,  could  distinguish  only  a  word  or  two,  or  a  de 
tached  sentence. 

"  I  don't  think  that  's  so  awful.  Sam  does  that,  too, 
and  he  's  just  as  nice  a  brother  as  I  want." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  anything  about  that  ;  but  I  know 
it  's  true,  for  Maude  said  so."  In  the  increasing  confusion 
of  talk  in  the  house,  the  voices  were  suddenly  raised,  and 
Rose  caught  every  word. 

"  I  '11  ask  Sam  —  "  began  the  other,  dropping  her  opera 
glass  and  stooping  to  pick  it  up. 

"  If  you  do,  Minna  Grayson,  I  '11  never  speak  to  you 


"  Oh,  I  forgot  —  "  laughed  the  other.  "  Tell  us  some 
more,  it  's  awfully  exciting." 

"  I  won't  either,"  said  the  other,  in  a  huffy  tone.  Evi 
dently,  they  were  school-girls  in  for  the  matine'e. 

"  Oh,  do  ;  what  did  Maude  say  ?  " 

"  She  said,  *  No,'  "  chuckled  the  other  triumphantly. 

"  But  think  of  his  money  !  ' 

"  She  said  she  did  n't  mind  ;  she  's  got  money  enough  of 
her  own,  anyway,  if  she  does  skimp  me  on  allowance  ever 
since  grandmamma  died." 


298  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  I  heard  Sam  say  last  Christmas  when  I  was  home  for 
vacation,  that  he  was  perfectly  devoted  to  that  new  girl  the 
Clydes  have  taken  up." 

"  Yes.  Maude  says  it 's  one  of  his  fads.  She  gives  him 
six  months  more  to  get  over  it." 

"Everybody  says  she  is  a  perfect  beauty.  Sam  says 
that  Mrs.  Fenlick  says  she  is  the  most  beautiful  creature 
off  of  a  canvas  she  has  ever  seen." 

"  Oh,  Maude  says  Mrs.  Fenlick  raves  over  everything 
new.  She,  the  girl,  I  mean,  made  a  dead  set  at  him  a  year 
ago  when  he  happened  to  meet  her  up  in  the  mountains. 
You  know  they  had  a  riding-party  last  August.  But  now 
they  say  she  seems  to  be  setting  her  cap  for  Hazel's  father 
—  he  has  a  million  or  two  more  than  Jack,  and  she 's  as 
poor  as  a  church-mouse." 

"  I  did  n't  know  that,  —  poor  ?  " 

"  Yes,  awfully.  Why,  Maude  says  she 's  seen  her  selling 
berries  for  a  living  somewhere  up  in  the  mountains  —  oh, 
way  back  in  them.  People  call  them  the  Lost  Nation, 
they're  so  far  back;  and  Maude  says  she  wore  patched 
shoes  and  an  old  calico  dress  —  Sh  !  —  Now  we  're  going  to 
have  that  bridal  march,  is  n't  it  dandy  ?  It  ought  to  be  a 
part  of  the  marriage  ceremony,  Maude  says.  I  'in  so  glad 
it 's  coming ;  —  Turn,  turn,  ty  turn  —  turn,  turn,  ty  turn 
—here  's  just  one  more  candied  violet  —  turn,  turn,  ty  turn, 
turn,  ty  turn,  ty  ty  turn,  ty  turn  —  Oh,  look !  Is  n't  Elsa 
just  lovely —  " 

A  burst  of  applause  greeted  the  beautiful  prima  donna. 
Upon  Rose's  ears  it  fell  like  the  thunder  of  a  cataract,  like 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  299 

the  crash  and  roll  of  an  avalanche.  She  stared  at  the 
exquisite  scene  before  her  with  strained  eyes.  The  music 
went  on  with  all  the  troublous-sweet  under-tones  of  love, 
and  longing,  and  forever-parting.  Not  once  did  Rose 
stir  until  the  curtain  fell,  then  she  turned  to  her 
companion :  — 

"  Can  we  get  out  soon,  Mrs.  May  ?  The  air  is  a  little 
close  here." 

"  Certainly,  my  dear ;  "  but  to  herself  she  said,  "  How 
intense  she  is.  I  'm  thankful  I  never  was  so  strung  up 
over  music." 


XXIV 

"  OLD  PUT  " 

"  WHERE  's  Rose  ?  "  said  the  Doctor  as  he  came  in  that 
Saturday  evening,  and  heard  no  welcoming  voice  from  the 
library  or  the  stairs. 

"  She  came  home  from  the  opera  with  a  frightful  head 
ache  and  has  gone  to  bed.  She  said  she  did  n't  want  any 
dinner,  but  I  have  insisted  upon  her  having  some  toast 
and  tea,"  replied  his  wife. 

"  Humph !  "  growled  the  Doctor ;  "Our  wild  rose  can't 
stand  such  hot-house  atmosphere.  When  does  the  Fen- 
licks'  ball  come  off?" 

"  Next  Wednesday ;  it  will  be  a  superb  affair.  Rose 
showed  me  her  card  the  other  day,  and  if  you  will  be 
lieve  me,  it 's  full,  although  Jack  Sherrill  gets  the  lion's 
share." 

"  How  do  you  think  things  are  coming  on  there, 
wine  ?  " 

"  Why,  he 's  devoted  to  her  whenever  he  can  be ;  you 
know  what  Mrs.  Pearsell  told  us  about  last  summer, 
but  —  " 

"  But  what  ? "  said  the  Doctor,  a  little  impatiently. 
"Generally,  wine,  you  can  see  prospective  wedding-cake 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  301 

if  two  young  people  so  much  as  look  twice  at  each 
other." 

Mrs.  Heath  laughed  and  nodded.  "  Yes,  I  know ;  but 
in  just  this  case,  I  don't  know.  You  can't  tell  anything 
by  her  —  and  I  fear,  hubbie,  that  Jack  Sherrill  is  n't  quite 
good  enough  for  her." 

"  Not  quite  good  enough  for  her !  "  The  Doctor  almost 
shouted  in  his  earnestness.  "  Jack  Sherrill  not  quite  good 
enough  for  — 

"  Sh  —  sh,  dear !  "  His  wife  held  up  her  hand  in  warning. 
"  Someone  might  hear." 

"  Let  'em  hear,  then,"  growled  the  Doctor.  "  I  say  Rose 
is  n't  a  bit  too  good  for  him.  —  Look  here,  wifie,  —  "  he  drew 
her  towards  him  and  down  upon  the  arm  of  his  easy-chair, 
"  Jack 's  all  right  every  time  —  do  you  understand  ?  All 
right!" 

"  Ye-es,"  admitted  his  wife  rather  reluctantly.  "  I  know 
he  's  a  great  favorite  of  yours.  But  Mrs.  Grayson  says 
he  's  in  a  very  fast  set  at  Harvard  — 

"  Now  look  here,  wifie,  don't  you  let  those  women  with 
their  eternal  hunger  for  gossip  say  anything  to  you  about 
Jack.  I  tell  you  there  is  n't  another  fellow  I  know,  who, 
placed  as  he  is,  can  set  up  so  many  white  stones  to  mark 
his  short  life's  pathway  as  John  Sherrill's  only  son.  For 
heaven's  sake,  give  him  the  credit  for  them.  I  know  what 
I  saw  on  Mount  Hunger  a  year  ago,  and  I  know  and  believe 
what  I  see." 

"  Well,  I  only  hope  he  won't  flirt  with  her  —  "  began 
Mrs.  Heath.  Her  husband  interrupted  her : 


302  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"Flirt  with  her!"  The  Doctor  chuckled.  "I '11  war 
rant  Jack  won't  do  any  flirting  with  her  —  it  '11  be  the 
other  way  round  sooner  than  that!  Just  say  good-night 
to  Rose  for  me  when  you  go  up  stairs,  and  tell  her  if  she 
is  n't  down  bright  and  early  Sunday  morning,  I  '11  prescribe 
for  her." 

But  there  was  no  need  for  the  Doctor's  prescription  ;  for 
Rose  was  down  for  breakfast,  and  although  white  cheeks 
and  heavy  eyes  caused  the  Doctor  to  draw  his  eyebrows 
together  in  a  straight  line  over  the  bridge  of  his  nose, 
nothing  was  said  of  there  being  any  need  for  a  prescription. 
But  after  breakfast  he  drew  her  into  the  library  and 
placed  her  in  an  easy-chair  before  the  blazing  fire. 

"  There  now,"  he  said  in  his  own  kindliest  tones,  "  sit 
there  and  dream  while  wifie  makes  ready  for  church,  and 
after  that  you  shall  go  with  me  for  an  official  drive.  The 
air  will  do  you  good.  I  can't  send  such  white  roses  "  — 
he  patted  her  cheek  —  "  back  to  Mount  Hunger ;  what 
would  mother  say?" 

To  his  amazement  Rose  buried  her  face  in  both  hands  ; 
a  half-suppressed  sob  startled  him. 

"  Why,  Rose-pose  !  What 's  the  matter,  little  girl  ? 
Headachey  —  nerves  unstrung  —  too  much  opera  ?  Here, 
come  into  the  office  where  we  shan't  be  disturbed,  and 
tell  me  all  about  it." 

But  Rose  shook  her  head,  lifted  it  from  her  hands,  and 
smiled  through  the  welling  tears. 

"  I  'm  a  perfect  goose,  but  —  but  —  I  believe  I  'm  getting 
just  a  little  bit  homesick  for  Mount  Hunger,  and  I  'm  not 


A  Daughter   of  the  Rich  303 

going  to  stay  for  Mrs.  Fenlick's  ball.  I  know  mother 
needs  me  at  home  —  I  can  just  feel  it  in  her  letters,  and 
I  know  I  want  —  I  want  her." 

"  Don't  blame  you  a  bit,  Rose,  —  but  is  n't  this  rather 
sudden  ?  Any  previous  attacks  ?  " 

"No  —  and  I  know  it  seems  dreadfully  ungrateful  to 
you  and  dear  Mrs.  Heath  to  say  so,  and  it  is  n't  that  —  I  'd 
love  to  be  with  just  you  two ;  but  it 's  this  dreadful  feel 
ing  comes  over  me,  and  I  know  I  ought  to  go." 

"  And  go  you  shall,  Rose,"  said  the  Doctor,  emphatically, 
but  oh !  so  kindly  and  understandingly.  "  Go  back  to 
all  the  dear  ones  there  —  and  when  you  come  again,  don't 
give  us  the  tail-end  of  your  visit,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  won't,"  answered  Rose,  earnestly,  "  and  if  it 
were  only  you  and  Mrs.  Heath,  I  'd  love  to  stay,  but  — 
but  —  " 

"  No  need  to  say  anything  more,  Rose,  wifie  and  I  un 
derstand  it  perfectly — "  ("I  wish  the  dickens  I  did!" 
was  his  thought)  —  "  Tell  wifie  when  she  comes  down, 
and  meanwhile  I  '11  send  round  for  the  brougham  and 
we  '11  take  a  little  drive  in  the  Park  before  office  hours." 

Rose  patted  his  hand,  and  her  silence  spoke  for 
her. 

"  Here  's  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish !  "  said  the  Doctor  to 
himself  as  he  went  to  the  telephone.  "  I  wish  I  could 
get  to  the  bottom  of  it." 

And  thus  it  came  about  that  a  cool,  dignified  note,  not 
expressive  of  any  particular  regret,  was  mailed  to  Cam 
bridge  on  Sunday  afternoon,  and  a  long  letter  to  Mount 


304  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Hunger  telling  them  to  be  sure  to  meet  her  on  Tuesday 
at  Barton's,  and  filled  with  wildly  enthusiastic  expressions 
of  delight  in  anticipation  of  the  home-coming.  And  on 
Tuesday  afternoon,  as  the  train  sped  onwards,  following 
the  curves  of  the  frozen  Connecticut,  and  the  snow-cov 
ered  mountains  on  the  Vermont  side  began  to  crowd  its 
banks,  Rose  felt  a  lightening  of  the  heart  and  an  uplifting 
of  spirits. 

The  bitterness  and  shame  and  shock  she  had  experienced, 
in  consequence  of  that  one  little  bite  of  the  fruit  of  the 
Tree  of  the  Knowledge  of  Good  and  Evil,  seemed  to  di 
minish  with  every  mile  that  increased  the  distance  between 
her  and  the  frothing  whirlpool  of  the  great  city's  gayeties. 
All  the  way  up,  until  the  mountains  loomed  in  sight,  there 
had  been  hot,  indignant  protest  in  her  thoughts.  At  first, 
indeed,  it  had  been  hatred. 

"  I  hate  it  all  —  hate  it,  hate  it !  "  she  found  herself  say 
ing  over  and  over  again  after  the  good-byes  had  been  said 
at  the  station,  and  Hazel  and  Mr.  Clyde  and  Doctor  Heath 
had  supplied  her  with  flowers  and  magazines  for  the  long 
day's  journey.  It  was  all  she  could  think  or  feel  at  the 
time ;  but  soon  the  little  pronoun  changed,  and  the  thought 
grew  more  bitter : 

"  I  hate  him !  How  could  he  —  how  dared  he  do  as  he 
did  !  Because  I  am  poor,  I  suppose.  Oh  !  I  wish  I  could 
make  him  pay  for  it.  I  wish  I  could  make  him  love  me 
really  and  truly,  and  then  just  scorn  him !  But  what  a  fool 
I  am  —  as  if  he  could  love  after  what  I  heard  —  oh,  why 
did  I  hear  it!  I  wish  I  may  never  see  his  face  again, 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  305 

and  I  wish  I  'd  stayed  at  home  where  I  belong  —  I  hate 
him !  "  —And  so  on  "  da  capo  "  hour  after  hour,  and  the 
incessant  chugetty-chug-chug  of  the  express  furnished  the 
rhythmic,  basal  tone  for  the  bitter  motive. 

It  was  long  after  lunch  time,  and  the  train  of  thought 
had  not  changed,  when  Rose's  eye  fell  upon  the  dainty 
basket  Martin  had  placed  in  the  rack. 

"  This  is  a  pretty  state  of  mind  to  go  home  to  Martie 
in !  "  she  said  to  herself,  rising  and  taking  down  the  basket. 
"  I  have  n't  eaten  a  good  meal  since  last  Saturday  at  lunch, 
and  I  'm  — •  why,  I  believe  I  'in  hungry  ! " 

She  opened  the  basket,  and  loving  evidence  of  Minna- 
Lu's  admiration  tempted  her  to  pick  a  little  here  and  there 
—  a  stuffed  olive  or  two,  a  roast  quail,  a  delicate  celery 
sandwich,  a  quince  tart,  a  bunch  of  Hamburg  grapes. 
Soon  Rose  was  feasting  on  all  the  good  things,  and  her 
harsh  thoughts  began  to  soften.  How  kind  they  all  were  ! 
And  tliey  truly  loved  her  —  and  what  had  they  not  done 
for  her  comfort  and  pleasure !  Rose,  setting  her  pretty 
teeth  deep  into  a  third  quince  tart,  looked  out  of  the  win 
dow  and  almost  exclaimed  aloud  at  the  sight.  The  van 
guard  of  the  Green  Mountains  closed  in  the  upper  end  of 
the  river-valley  along  which  they  were  speeding.  It  was 
home  that  was  behind  all  that !  The  thought  still  further 
softened  her. 

What?  Carry  her  bitterness  and  disappointed  pride 
back  into  that  dear,  peaceful  home  ?  Not  she !  "  They 
shall  never  know  —  never !  "  she  said  to  herself  —  "I  'm 
not  Molly  Stark  for  nothing,  and  there  are  others  in  the 

20 


306  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

world  beside  Jack  Sherrill."  And  so  she  continued  to 
speak  cold  comfort  to  herself  for  the  next  four  hours 
until  the  brakeman  called  "  Barton's  River ! " 

There  beyond  the  platform  was  the  old  apple-green 
pung !  —  and  yes !  father  and  March  and  Budd  and  dear 
old  Chi  anxiously  scanning  the  coaches. 

Home  at  last !  and  such  a  home-coming !  How  busy 
the  tongues  were  for  a  week  afterwards !  How  wildly  gay 
was  Rose,  who  kept  them  laughing  over  the  many  queer 
doings  of  the  metropolis,  over  Wilkins  and  Minna-Lu  and 
Martin  and  Mrs.  Scott !  And  how  lovingly  she  spoke  of 
Hazel's  charming  hospitality  and  of  Mr.  Clyde's  thought- 
fulness  for  her  pleasure,  although,  as  she  mentioned  his 
name,  a  wave  of  color  mounted  to  the  roots  of  her  hair  at 
the  ugly  thought  that  would  intrude.  Chi  listened  with 
all  his  ears,  enjoying  it  with  the  rest ;  but  once  upstairs 
in  his  room  over  the  shed,  he  would  sit  down  on  the  side 
of  his  bed  to  ponder  a  little  the  gay  doings  of  his  Rose- 
pose  among  the  "  high-flyers,"  and  then  turn  in  with  a 
sigh  and  a  muttered  : 

"  'T  ain't  Rose-pose.  I  knew  how  't  would  be.  —  There  's 
a  screw  loose  somewhere  ;  but  she 's  handsome  !  —  hand 
some  as  a  picture,  'n'  I  'd  giA^e  a  dollar  to  know  if  she  's 
cut  that  other  one  out." 

"  Valentines  seem  kind  of  scarce  this  year,"  he  remarked 
rather  grimly,  a  few  days  after  her  arrival,  as  late  in  the 
afternoon,  he  returned  from  Barton's  with  little  mail  and 
no  boxes  of  flowers.  "  It 's  the  sixteenth  day  of  February, 
but  it  might  be  Fast  Day  for  all  that  handful  of  mail  would 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  307 

show  for  it!  "  He  placed  the  package  on  Mrs.  Blossom's 
work-table  at  which  Rose  was  sitting  busy  with  some 
sewing.  They  were  alone  in  the  room. 

Rose  laughed  merrily.  "Goodness,  Chi!  you  want  us 
to  have  more  than  our  share.  We  had  a  perfect  deluge 
last  year  when  Hazel  was  here ;  you  know  it  makes  a 
difference  without  her.  You  said  yourself  that  there  was 
a  good  deal  of  bulk,  but  it  was  pretty  light  weight  —  don't 
you  remember  ?  " 

Chi  elevated  one  bushy  eyebrow.  "  I  ain't  forgot ;  but  I 
don't  know  about  it 's  bein'  any  Deluye  —  it  appeared  to 
me  it  was  a  Shadrach,  Meshach,  'n'  Abednego  kind  of  a 
business  —  He  gave  the  back  log  a  kick  that  sent  the 
sparks  up  the  chimney  in  a  grand  pyrotechnic  show. 
"  Seems  as  if  I  could  see  those  posies,  now,  a-shrivellin' 
in  the  fireplace.  Never  thought  you  treated  those  innocent 
things  quite  on  the  square,  Rose-pose ! " 

Rose's  head  was  bent  low  over  her  work.  Chi  went  on, 
bracing  himself  to  the  self-imposed  task  of  enlightening 
her  :  — 

"  I  don't  want  to  meddle,  Rose,  in  anybody's  business, 
but  it  ain't  set  well  with  me  ever  since  —  the  way  you 
treated  those  roses ;  'n',  after  all,  we  're  both  members  of 
the  Nobody's  Business  But  Our  Own  Society,  'n'  if  any 
body  's  goin'  to  meddle,  perhaps  I  'm  the  one.  I  've  thought 
a  good  many  times  you  would  n't  have  been  quite  so  harsh 
with  'em,  if  you  had  n't  overlooked  this  in  your  flare- 
up  —  He  drew  out  of  his  breast  pocket  a  card  —  Jack  's 
-  with  the  verse  on  the  back.  "  Read  that,  'n'  see  if  you 


308  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

ain't  dropped  a  stitch  somewhere  that  you  can  pick  up  in 
time."  He  handed  her  the  card. 

Rose  looked  up  surprised,  but  with  burning  cheeks. 
She  took  the  card,  read  the  verse,  turned  it  over  on  the 
name  side,  and  rose  from  her  chair.  Every  particle  of  color 
had  left  her  face.  She  went  over  to  the  fireplace,  and, 
bending,  dropped  the  little  piece  of  pasteboard  upon  the 
glowing  back-log. 

"  The  sentiment  belongs  with  the  roses,  Chi ;  don't  let 's 
have  any  more  Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abednego  business 
—  I  'm  tired  of  it."  She  spoke  indifferently ;  then,  resum 
ing  her  seat,  called  out  in  a  cheery  voice : 

"  Martie,  won't  you  come  here  a  minute,  and  see  if  I  have 
put  on  this  gore  right  ?  " 

"  I  '11  come,  dear." 

Chi,  nonplussed,  irritated,  repulsed,  set  his  teeth  hard 
and  abruptly  left  the  room. 

Outside  in  the  shed  he  clenched  his  fist  and  shook  it 
vigorously  at  the  closed  door  of  the  long-room :  "  —  By 
George  Washin'ton ! "  he  muttered,  "  I  '11  make  you  pay 
up  for  that,  Rose  Blossom.  You  can't  come  any  of  your 
high-flyers'  games  on  me  —  Just  you  put  that  in  your 
pipe  and  smoke  it !  Thunde ration !  what  gets  into  women 
and  girls,  sometimes  ?  "  He  seized  the  milk-pails  from  the 
shelf  and  hurried  to  the  barn  nearly  running  down  Cherry 
in  his  wrathful  excitement. 

"  Look  out  there,  Cherry  !  You  're  always  getting  round 
under  foot !  "  he  said,  harshly,  and  stumbled  on,  regaining 
his  balance,  only  to  be  met  by  Budd  in  the  barn. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  309 

"  Just  clear  out  now,  Budd  !  I  ain't  goin'  to  stand  your 
foolin'.  Let  alone  of  that  stanchion,"  he  roared.  "  Al 
ways  worryin'  the  cow  if  she  looks  once  at  you  sideways. 
Get  up,  there  —  His  right  boot  helped  the  amazed  cow 
forwards  into  the  stall,  and  the  milk  drummed  into  the  pail 
as  if  the  poor  creature  were  being  milked  by  a  dummy- 
engine  with  more  pressure  of  steam  on  than  it  could  well 
stand. 

Budd  flew  into  the  woodshed  and  found  Cherry  still 
standing,  in  a  half-dazed  condition,  where  Chi  had  left  her. 
They  compared  notes  immediately  to  the  detriment  and 
defamation  of  Chi's  character.  Then  they  carried  their 
budget  of  woe  to  their  mother. 

"  Chi  is  worried,  children ;  you  must  n't  mind  if  he  is  a 
little  cross  now  and  then.  He  feels  dreadfully  about  the 
prospect  of  this  war,  as  we  all  do,  and  that 's  his  way  of 
showing  it." 

"  Well,  if  he 's  going  to  be  so  cross  at  us,  I  wish  he  'd 
clear  out  an'  go  to  war!  "  retorted  Budd,  smarting  under 
the  unjust  treatment. 

"  I  'm  only  afraid  he  will  if  we  have  one,"  said  Mrs. 
Blossom,  sadly.  "But,  oh,  I  hope  and  pray  we  may  be 
spared  that ! " 

But  Budd  continued  to  grumble,  and  Cherry  to  be  sus 
piciously  sniffy,  until  their  father's  return ;  and  then  at  the 
supper  table  they  listened  greedily  to  all  the  talk  of  their 
elders,  that  had  for  its  absorbing  theme  the  prospective 
war. 

As  the  spring  days  lengthened,  and  the  sun  drew  north- 


310  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

ward,  the  tiny  cloud  on  the  country's  peaceful  horizon  grew 
larger  and  darker,  until  it  cast  its  shadow  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  land,  and  men's  faces  grew  stern 
and  troubled  and  women  prayed  for  peace. 

With  the  lengthening  days  Chi  showed  signs  of  increas 
ing  restlessness.  "It  ain't  any  use,  Ben,"  he  said,  one 
soft  evening  in  early  May,  as  the  family,  with  the  excep 
tion  of  the  younger  children,  sat  on  the  porch  discussing 
the  latest  news,  "  I  've  got  to  go." 

"  Oh,  Chi !  "  broke  from  Mrs.  Blossom  and  Rose.  They 
cried  out  as  if  hurt.  Mr.  Blossom  grasped  Chi's  right 
hand,  and  March  wrung  the  other. 

"  I  can't  stand  it,"  he  went  on ;  "  we  've  been  sassed 
enough  as  a  nation,  'n'  some  of  us  have  got  to  teach  those 
foreigners  we  ain't  goin'  to  turn  the  other  cheek  just  coz 
we  're  slapped  on  one.  When  I  was  n't  higher  than  Budd, 
my  great-grandfather  —  you  remember  him,  Ben,  lived  the 
other  side  of  the  Mountain  —  put  his  father's  old  Revolu- 
tion'ry  musket  (the  one,  you  know,  Rose-pose,  as  I  've  used 
in  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O.)  into  my  hands,  'n'  says :  '  Don't 
you  stand  no  sass,  Malachi  Graham,  from  no  foreign 
ers.  —  Just  shoot  away,  'n'  holler,  "  Hands  off "  every 
time,  'n'  they  '11  learn  their  lesson  easy  and  early,  'n' 
respect  you  in  the  end.'  And  I  ain't  forgot  it." 

"  Chi,"  Mrs.  Blossom's  voice  was  tremulous,  "  you  won't 
go  till  you  're  asked,  or  needed,  will  you  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  goin'  to  wait  to  be  asked,  Mis'  Blossom ;  I  'd 
rather  be  on  hand  to  be  refused.  That 's  my  way.  So  I 
thought  I  'd  be  gettin'  down  along  this  week  — ' 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  311 

"  This  week  !  "  Rose  interrupted  him  with  a  cry  and  a 
half-sob.  "  Oh,  Chi !  dear  old  Chi !  must  you  go  ?  What 
if  —  what  if  -  Rose's  voice  broke,  and  Chi  gulped  down 
a  big  lump,  but  answered,  cheerily  : 

"Well,  Rose-pose,  what  if?     Ain't  I  Old  Put?  'n'  ain't 
you  Molly  Stark?  'n'  ain't  Lady-bird  Barbara  Frietchie  ?  — 
There,  just   read   that—    '  he  handed  a  letter  to  March, 
who  gave  it  back  to  him,  saying,  in  a  husky  voice,  that  it 
was  too  dark  to  read. 

"  Well,  then  we  '11  adjourn  into  the  house,  'n'  light  up. 
-  There  now,"  he  said,  as  he  lighted  the  lamp  and  set  it 
on  the  table  beside  March,  "  here 's  your  letter,  Markis, 
read  ahead." 

March  read  with  broken  voice  : 

4  EAST  — TH  STREET,  NEW  YORK, 
May  5,  1898. 

DEAR  FRIEND  CHI,  —  I  never  thought  when  I  joined  the 
N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  Society,  that  I  'd  have  to  be  really  brave  about 
real  war ;  —  and  now  dear  old  Jack  is  going  off  to  Cuba  with 
Little  Shaver  and  all  those  cow-boys,  —  and  it 's  dreadful ! 
Uncle  John  is  about  sick  over  it,  for,  you  know,  Jack  is  all  he 
has.  Papa  is  going  to  keep  the  house  open  all  summer;  he 
says  there  is  no  telling  what  may  happen. 

We  have  made  no  plans  for  the  summer,  for  our  hearts  are 
so  heavy  on  Jack's  account  —  his  last  year  in  Harvard,  too! 
He  told  me  to  tell  you  he  would  find  out  if  there  is  a  chance  for 
you  in  the  new  cavalry  regiment  he  has  joined.  He  looked  so 
pleased  when  I  told  him ;  he  read  your  letter,  and  I  told  him 
how  you  wanted  to  go  with  him,  and  he  said  :  "  Dear  old  Chi, 
I'd  like  to  have  him  for  my  bunkie" — and  told  me  what  it 


312  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

meant.     He  told  me  to  tell  you  to  be  prepared  for  a  telegram 
at  any  moment. 

I  must  stop  now ;  papa  wants  me  to  go  out  with  him.  Give 
my  love  to  all,  and  tell  Mother  Blossom  and  Rose  I  will  write 
them  more  particulars  in  a  few  days. 

If  you  come  to  New  York,  you  know  a  room  will  be  ready 
for  you  in  the  home  of  your 

Loving  friend, 

HAZEL  CLYDE. 

There  was  silence  for  a  while  in  the  room ;  then  Mr. 
Blossom  spoke: 

"  How  are  you  going,  Chi  ?  " 

"  I  'm  goin'  to  jog  along  down  with  Fleet,  'n'  take  it 
kind  of  easy  —  thought  I  'd  cross  the  Mountain,  'n'  strike 
in  on  the  old  post-road;  'n'  follow  on  down  by  old  Ticon- 
derogy,  —  I  've  always  wanted  to  see  that,  —  then  across  to 
Saratogy  'n'  Albany,  'n'  foller  the  river.  You  can't  go 
amiss  of  New  York  if  you  stick  to  that." 

Again  there  was  a  prolonged  silence.  Chi  hemmed,  and 
moved  uneasily  on  his  chair,  while  he  fumbled  about  in  his 
trousers'  pocket.  He  pulled  out  a  piece  of  crumpled, 
yellow  paper. 

"  S'pose  I  might  just  as  well  make  a  clean  breast  of 
it."  He  tried  to  laugh,  but  it  was  a  failure.  "Jack's 
telegram  came  along  last  night,  'n'  I  thought,  maybe  I  'd 
better  be  gettin'  my  duds  together  to-night,  Mis'  Blossom, 
as  't  will  be  a  mighty  early  start  —  before  any  of  you  are 
up,"  he  added,  hastily. 

The  two  women  broke  down  then,  and  Mr.  Blossom  and 
March  followed  Chi  out  to  the  barn. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  313 

The  household,  save  for  the  younger  children,  was  early 
astir  —  before  sunrise.  Mrs.  Blogsora  had  prepared  a  hearty 
breakfast,  and  Rose  was  rolling  up  a  few  pairs  of  her 
father's  stockings  to  put  in  the  netted  saddle-bag  which 
Chi  was  wont  to  use  in  hunting. 

"  Tell  March  to  call  Chi,  Rose,"  said  her  mother.  "  His 
breakfast  is  ready,  I  hear  him  in  the  barn." 

Rose  ran  out  in  the  dawning  light  to  find  her  father 
and  March  just  coming  towards  the  house. 

"  Why,  where  's  Chi  ?  "  she  cried. 

For  answer,  her  father  pointed  to  the  woodlands.  She 
looked  just  in  time  to  see  in  the  soft  gray  of  the  early 
morn  the  horse  and  rider  rise  to  the  three-railed  fence  that 
separated  the  pasture  from  the  woodlands.  He  was  fol 
lowing  the  trail  he  had  indicated  to  Jack  —  "  through  the 
woods  'n'  acre  or  two  of  brush,  'n'  then  some  pretty  steep 
sliding  down  the  other  side,  'n'  a  dozen  rods  or  so  of 
swimmin',  'n'  a  tough  old  clamber  up  the  bank  — " 

Some  ten  days  afterward,  late  on  a  warm  afternoon  in 
May,  there  rode  into  New  York  City  by  the  way  of  the 
Bronx  and  Harlem,  a  middle-aged  man  on  a  bright  bay 
horse.  The  animal's  gait  was  a  noticeable  one,  a  long, 
loping  gallop,  that  covered  the  ground  in  a  manner  that 
roused  the  admiration  of  the  drivers  on  the  speedway. 
The  tall,  loose-jointed  body  of  the  rider  apparently  loped 
along  with  the  horse  —  their  movements  were  identical. 
The  saddle  was  an  old-fashioned  cavalry  one  of  the  early 
sixties.  A  netted  saddle-bag  and  a  rolled  rubber  coat 
were  fastened  to  the  crupper.  A  light-weight  hunting 


314  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

rifle  was  slung  on  a  strap  over  the  man's  shoulder.  At 
the  northern  entrance  to  the  Park  he  drew  rein  beside  a 
mounted  policeman. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  if  I  'm  on  the  right  track  to  this 
house?  " 

He  took  a  card  from  the  pocket  of  his  dusty  blue  flan 
nel  shirt  and  handed  it  to  the  policeman. 

The  city  guardian  nodded  assent.  "  But  you  can't  take 
that  gun  along  with  you ;  you  're  inside  city  limits  and 
liable  to  arrest." 

"  'Gainst  the  law,  hey?  Well,  I  've  come  from  a  pretty 
law-abiding  state,  'n'  ain't  goin'  to  get  into  rows  with  you 
fellers  — "  He  laid  a  brown,  knotty,  work-roughened 
finger  on  the  policeman's  immaculate  blue  coat  —  "  I  'd 
trust  that  color  as  far  as  I  could  see.  Where  shall  I  leave 
the  rifle  ?  " 

The  city  guard  unbent  as  the  kindly  voice  yielded  such 
undefiant  obedience  to  his  demand.  "  You  can  leave  it 
with  me  now,  —  I  'm  off  my  beat  by  seven,  and  live  over 
east  of  this—  "  he  handed  back  the  card —  "and  I  '11  leave 
it  at  the  house  if  you  're  going  to  be  there." 

"  All  right,  that  '11  suit  me.  Yes,  I  'm  goin'  to  put  up 
there  for  a  day  or  two,  maybe." 

"  Off  on  a  hunting  trip  ?  " 

"You  bet  —  goin'  on  a  big,  old,  U.  S.  A.  hunt  for  a  lot 
of  darned  foreigners  in  Cuby." 

The  policeman  held  out  his  hand  and  grasped  the 
stranger's.  "You're  one  of  them?" 

"  Yes,  I  come  down  to  join  a  cavalry  regiment.     Jack 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  315 

Sherrill,  he  belongs,  too.  Great  rider  —  can't  be  beat. 
Ever  seen  him  round  here  on  Little  Shaver?" 

The  policeman  smiled.  "  No,  but  I  'd  like  to  see  you 
again  —  " 

"  Maybe  you  will ;  but  I  'd  better  be  getting  along  be 
fore  sundown,  —  'gainst  the  law  to  ride  this  horse  a  piece 
through  those  woods  ?  "  He  pointed  into  the  Park. 

"  Oh,  no,  that 's  all  right.  Keep  along  till  you  come  to 
Seventieth  Street,  and  inquire;  and  then  turn  into  Fifth 
Avenue  —  east  —  and  you're  there." 

"Much  obliged.  Like  to  show  you  a  trail  or  two  up 
in  Vermont  when  you  come  that  way.  Get,  Fleet."  The 
animal  set  forward  into  a  long,  loping  gallop. 

The  brilliant,  light  green  of  the  May  foliage  was  en 
hanced  by  the  level  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  as  the  man 
turned  his  horse  into  Fifth  Avenue  and  drew  rein  to  a 
rapid  walk.  Many  a  one  paused  to  look  at  him  as  he 
paced  over  the  asphalt.  He  was  looking  up  at  the  man 
sions  of  the  Upper  East  Side.  Soon  he  halted  at  the 
corner  of  a  side  street  and  gazed  up  at  the  first  house,  the 
end  of  which,  with  the  conservatory,  was  on  the  Avenue, 
but  the  entrance  on  the  side  street.  "  That 's  the  place," 
he  spoke  to  himself,  —  "  don't  see  a  hitchin'-post  handy,  so 
I  '11  just  have  to  tie  up  to  this  electric  light  stand.  Iron, 
by  thunder !  —  Well,  there  ain't  any  risk  so  long  as  't  isn't 
lit,  'n'  there  ain't  a  tempest." 

Leaving  his  horse  firmly  tied  to  the  standard  he 
stepped  up  on  the  low,  broad  stoop  of  "Number  4,"  and 
looked  for  the  bell.  Not  finding  any  he  knocked  forcibly 


316  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

on  the  carved  iron  grill  that  protected  the  plate-glass 
doors. 

The  great  doors  flew  open,  and  a  face  —  "  blacker  'n 
thunder "  —  as  the  man  said  to  himself,  scowled  on  the 
interloper. 

"  Wha'  fo'  yo'  come  hyar,  yo'  —  "  He  got  no  further. 
A  horny  hand  was  extended,  and  a  cheery  voice,  that 
broke  into  a  laugh,  spoke  the  assuaging  words: 

"  Guess  you  're  Wilkins,  ain't  you  ?  I  've  heard  Lady 
bird  tell  'bout  you  till  I  feel  as  if  we  'd  been  pretty  well 
acquainted  goin'  on  nigh  two  year  now." 

By  this  time  Wilkins'  face  was  one  broad  beam.  He 
slapped  his  free  hand  on  his  knee: 

"  Yo  's  Mister  Chi,  for  sho'  —  dere  ain't  no  need  yo' 
tellin'.  Yo'  jes'  come  straight  in,  Mister  Chi ;  Marse  John 
an'  little  Missy  jes'  gone  fo'  ah  drive  in  de  Park.  Dey  '11 
be  in  any  minute.  Yo'  room  's  all  ready,  an'  little  Missy 
put  de  flow'rs  in  fresh  dis  yere  mornin'  — '  'Case,'  she 
say,  '  Wilkins,  dere  ain't  no  tellin'  when  Chi 's  comin'.' " 

"  Sho',"  Chi  interrupted  him,  brushing  the  back  of  his 
hand  hastily  across  his  eyes.  "  I  can't  come  in  now,  Wil 
kins,  coz  I  Ve  got  to  stay  here  'n'  watch  my  horse  —  I  '11 
sit  here  on  the  steps  a  spell  'n'  cool  off  till  Mr.  Clyde  gets 
home,  'n'  he  '11  help  me  see  to  puttin'  up  Fleet  for  the 
night.  His  legs  are  a  little  mite  swollen  near  the  hocks, 
'n'  I  'm  goin'  to  rub  him  down  myself." 

"  De  coachman  jes'  tend  to  yo'  hoss  like  's  ef  't  wor 
yo'se'f,  Mister  Chi.  I  '11  jes'  call  up  de  stable  bo',  'n'  he  '11 
rub  him  down  wif  sp'r'ts,  an'  shine  him  up  till  he  look 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  317 

jes'  lake  new  mahog'ny.  Jes'  yo'  come  —  dere  dey  come 
now  ! " 

Chi  was  at  the  curbstone  to  welcome  them. 

"  Chi !  O  Chi ! "  Hazel  rose  up  in  the  trap  at  sight  of 
the  well-known  figure,  and  Chi,  laying  his  hand  firmly  on 
Martin's  shoulder,  put  him  aside  as  he  sprang  to  open  the 
door  and  let  down  the  steps,  reached  up  both  arms,  and  took 
Hazel  out  as  tenderly  as  on  the  night  of  her  first  arrival 
at  the  farmhouse  on  the  Mountain.  And  then  and  there 
Hazel  gave  him  a  kiss,  and  Mr.  Clyde  grasped  his  hands 
in  both  his,  and  the  wide  hall  doors  that  Wilkins  had 
thrown  open  to  their  fullest  extent  closed  upon  the  re 
united  friends. 

"  'E  's  a  'ansome  'oss,"  Martin  remarked  to  the  coach 
man,  as  he  mounted  Fleet  to  take  him  to  the  stable ;  "Hi 
'ave  n't  seen  a  'ansomer  since  Hi  've  bean  in  the  States." 

A  few  days  after  the  hall  doors  were  again  flung  wide, 
but  not  to  their  fullest  extent,  and  Wilkins'  face  grew 
strangely  tremulous  when  he  heard  Hazel  and  Mr.  Clyde, 
Jack  and  Chi  coming  down  the  broad  hall  stairs.  Martin 
was  proudly  leading  Fleet  and  Little  Shaver  up  and  down 
in  front  of  the  house. 

"Jack!  O  Jack!  I  can't  bear  to  have  you  go — but  I 
will  be  brave."  Hazel  smiled  through  the  raining  tears. 
She  clung  to  him  and  kissed  him.  He  put  her  aside,  ran 
out  to  Little  Shaver,  and  flung  himself  on  before  Chi  had 
said  good-bye. 

"Take  care  of  Jack,  Chi,"  she  whispered,  patting  his 
hand. 


318  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  I  will,  Barbara  Frietchie."  He  pointed  to  the  flag  that, 
in  the  east  wind  blowing  in  from  the  Sound,  was  waving 
over  the  entrance,  gripped  Mr.  Clyde's  hand,  then  Wilkins', 
and,  apparently,  stepped  into  the  saddle. 

"  Quick,  quick,  Wilkins  !  lower  the  flag,  and  let  me  have 
it."  Wilkins  sprang  to  obey.  Hazel  seized  it,  and  rushed 
up  stairs  to  the  drawing-room,  the  windows  of  which  over 
looked  the  Avenue.  One  of  them  was  open ;  she  leaned 
out;  and  as  Fleet  and  Little  Shaver  turned  the  corner, 
their  riders,  looking  up,  saw  the  young  girl's  figure  in  the 
opening.  She  was  waving  the  symbol  of  their  Country's 
life  and  their  manhood's  loyalty. 

They  halted,  baring  their  heads  for  a  moment  —  then 
without  once  looking  back,  galloped  down  the  Avenue. 


XXV 

SAN  JUAN 

NOTWITHSTANDING  it  was  a  hot  day  in  the  first  week 
of  July,  Mrs.  Spillkins  had  decided  to  have  a  "  quilting- 
bee."  Having  made  up  her  mind,  after  consulting  with 
Miss  Melissa  and  Miss  Elvira,  she  lost  no  time  in  sum 
moning  Uncle  Israel  from  the  barn,  and  making  known 
her  plans.  Uncle  Israel  mildly  objected. 

"  Kinder  hot  fer  er  quiltin'-bee,  ain't  it,  Hannah  ?  " 

"  'T  is  pretty  hot,"  Mrs.  Spillkins  admitted,  wiping  the 
perspiration  from  her  face  with  her  apron,  "  but  we  '11  have 
it  to-morrow  'long  'bout  four.  You  get  the  frames  and 
rollers  out,  Israel,  from  the  back  garret,  an'  then  I  want 
you  to  go  up  to  Mis'  Blossom's  an'  ask  'em  to  come,  an'  get 
word  to  the  other  folks  on  the  Mountain." 

"  I  '11  go,  Hannah,  but  I  dunno  'bout  Mis'  Blossom  V 
Rose  comin'  ter  er  quiltin'-bee  jest  'bout  this  time. 
They  're  feelin'  pretty  low  'bout  Chi  off  thar  in  Cuby  ; 
news  hez  come  thet  ther  's  ben  fightin'  —  " 

"  I  know  that,  Israel ;  I  've  thought  of  that,  too ;  but, 
mebbe,  it  '11  do  'em  good,  just  to  change  the  scene  a  little. 
Anyway,  you  ask  'em." 

"  Jest  ez  ye  say,  Hannah." 

The  sun  was  setting  when  Uncle  Israel  made  his  appear 
ance  on  the  porch  where  the  whole  family  was  assembled 


320  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

with  Alan   Ford.     They  had   but  one   topic   for   conver 
sation. 

Uncle  Israel  gave  his  invitation,  and  added :  "  Hannah 
thought  ye  'd  better  come  'n'  change  the  scene  a  leetle  — 
she  knowed  ye  'd  be  kinder  low-spereted  'bout  now." 

Mrs.  Blossom  held  out  her  hand.  "  Thank  you,  Uncle 
Israel.  Tell  Mrs.  Spillkins  we  will  both  come." 

"  Hannah  wants  your  folks  ter  come,  tew,  Alan." 

"  Much  obliged,  Uncle  Israel.  I  '11  tell  mother  and 
Ruth ;  I  'm  sure  they  will  enjoy  it.  Ruth  said  the  other 
day  she  wished  she  might  have  a  chance  to  see  a  quilting- 
bee  while  we  are  here.  Shall  I  take  your  message  over  to 
Aunt  Tryphosa  ?  " 

"  Much  obleeged,  Alan.  Thank  ye,  Rose,"  -  —  as  Rose 
brought  out  the  large  arm-chair  and  placed  it  for  him ; 
"  I  '11  set  a  spell  'n'  rest  me." 

It  was  a  typical  northern  midsummer  night.  Across 
the  valley  the  mountains  loomed,  softly  luminous,  against 
the  pale  green  translucent  stretch  of  open  sky  in  the  west. 
There  were  no  clouds ;  but  high  above  and  around  there 
swept  a  long  trail  of  motionless  mist,  flame-colored  over  the 
mountain  tops,  but  darkening,  with  the  coming  of  the  night, 
into  gray  towards  the  east.  The  stars  were  not  yet  out. 
The  veeries  were  choiring  antiphonally  in  the  woodlands. 

An  hour  afterwards  Alan  Ford  rose  to  go,  and  Uncle 
Israel  soon  followed  his  example. 

"  I  '11  go  down  the  woods'-road  a  piece  with  you,  Uncle 
Israel,"  said  Rose. 

As  she  came  back  up  the  Mountain  a  cool  breath  drew 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  321 

through  the  pines,  and  the  spruces  gave  forth  their  resin 
ous  fragrance  upon  the  dewless  night.  The  stars  were 
brilliant  in  the  dark  blue  deeps. 

A  midsummer  night  among  the  mountains  of  New 
England !  And  far  away  in  the  sickening  heat  and  wet, 
the  fever-laden  exhalations  of  the  tropics  rose  into  the 
nostrils  of  a  man,  who  sat  motionless  in  the  rude  field- 
hospital,  hastily  improvised  on  the  slope  of  San  Juan, 
watching,  with  his  knees  drawn  up  to  his  chin  and  his 
hands  clasping  them,  for  some  faint  tremor  in  the  still 
face  on  the  army  blanket  spread  upon  the  ground. 

The  lantern  cast  its  light  full  upon  that  still  face.  Sud 
denly  the  watcher  bent  forward ;  his  keen  eyes  had  de 
tected  a  twitch  of  an  eyelid  —  a  flutter  in  the  muscles  of 
the  throat.  "  Don't  move  him,"  the  surgeon  had  said ; 
"  the  least  movement  will  cause  the  final  hemorrhage." 

There  was  a  catch  of  the  breath  —  the  eyes  opened, 
partly  filmed. 

"  Jack  !  "  The  watcher  spoke,  bending  lower ;  his  ear 
over  the  other's  lips. 

"Chi  — "  it  was  a  mere  breath,  but  the  man  heard  — 
" I'm  —  done  for." 

The  watcher's  hand,  muscular,  toil-hardened,  sought  the 
nerveless  one  that  was  lying  on  the  other's  breast,  and 
closed  upon  it  with  a  brooding  pressure.  There  was 
silence  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  the  horny  hand  felt  a 
feeble  stirring  of  the  fingers  beneath  the  hardened  palm  — 
they  were  fumbling  weakly  at  a  button. 

The  strong  hand  undid  the  button,  gently  —  very  gently, 

21 


322  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

without  apparent  movement.     There  was  a  motion  of  the 
nerveless  fingers  towards  the  place.     Another  breath :  — 

"  Give  —  love  — 

A  long  silence  fell. 

Mrs.  Spillkins  heaved  a  sigh  of  satisfaction :  "  We  've 
done  an  awful  sight  of  work,"  she  said,  surveying  the  five 
quilts  "  run  "  and  "  tacked  "  and  "  knotted  "  in  even  rows 
and  mathematically  true  squares ;  "  but  it  seems  as  if 
they  did  n't  eat  a  mite  of  supper,  an'  that  strawberry  short 
cake  was  enough  to  melt  in  your  mouth." 

"  What'd  I  tell  ye,  Hannah?  They  're  worretin'  'bout 
Chi,"  said  Uncle  Israel.  "They've  fit  agin;  Ben  told 
me  while  he  wuz  waitin'  with  the  team  fer  the  womin- 
folks.  He  hed  the  mail,  'n'  er  telegram  thet  thet  young 
feller,  we  see  ridin'  'roun'  here  las'  summer,  wuz  mortal 
wounded.  He  did  n't  want  the  womin-f  oiks  ter  know  it 
till  he  got  'em  hum.  They  sot  er  sight  by  him." 

Mrs.  Spillkins  threw  up  her  hands  :  "  Dear  suz'y  me  !  " 
she  exclaimed  in  a  distressed  voice.  "  What  '11  they  do  ! 
I  hope  an'  pray  Malachi  Graham  ain't  hurt  none.  I  feel 
as  if  I  ought  to  go  right  up  there,  an'  see  if  there  's  any 
thing  I  can  do." 

"  Better  wait  till  the  Cap'n  comes  hum,  Hannah ;  he  '11 
hev  the  papers." 

"  I  guess  't  would  be  better,"  and  Mrs.  Spillkins  pro 
ceeded  to  fold  up  her  quilts  and  "  clear  up "  the  best 
room. 

The  hot  July  days  warmed  the  breast  of  the  Mountain. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  323 

Over  in  the  corn-patch  the  stalks  had  spindled  and  the 
swelling  ears  were  ready  to  tassel.  By  word  or  look 
Rose  had  given  no  sign  —  and  her  mother  wondered.  The 
days  wore  on ;  the  routine  of  daily  work  and  life  went  on  ; 
but  the  younger  children's  voices  were  subdued  when  they 
spoke  lovingly  and  longingly  of  Chi,  and  Rose  sang  no 
longer  when  she  kneaded  bread.  They  were  days  of  sus 
pense  and  heart  misery  for  them  all. 

Two  weeks  had  passed  since  that  evening  when  Mr. 
Blossom  had  read  to  them  the  fatal  despatch.  No  word 
had  come  from  anyone  save  Hazel,  who  wrote  that  her 
father  and  Uncle  John  had  started  at  once  for  Cuba,  and 
that  she  hoped  to  be  with  the  Blossoms  the  third  week  in 
July,  for  by  that  time  they  would  know  the  whole  truth. 

They  had  been  making  ready  Hazel's  little  bedroom, 
for  she  was  expected  in  a  few  days.  Rose  was  tacking  up 
a  white  muslin  curtain  at  the  small  window,  when  she 
heard  her  father  call : 

"  Rose,  come  here  a  minute." 

"  Yes,  father." 

She  went  out  on  the  porch  with  the  hammer  in  her 
hand.  "  What  is  it,  Popsey  dear  ?  —  Why,  father,  what  — 
oh  what  — ! " 

With  shaking  hand  her  father  held  out  a  letter  to  her. 
Rose  looked  once  —  it  was  from  Chi ! 

"  I  wish  mother  were  here,  daughter  —  but  she  '11  be 
back  soon.  Let  me  know  how  it  is  with  them  all — ." 
Mr.  Blossom  could  say  no  more,  for  Malachi  Graham  was 
as  near  to  him  as  a  brother,  and  he  was  agonizing  for  his 


324  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

child.     He  went  off  to  the  barn,  leaving  Rose  standing  on 
the  porch,  staring  as  if  fascinated  at  the  superscription  of 

the  letter : 

To  Miss  Rose  Blossom, 
Mill  Settlement, 
Barton's  River, 

Vermont. 
N.  B.  B.  O.  O.  — To  be  opened  by  nobody  but  her. 

Rose  laid  down  the  hammer  mechanically,  opened  the 
envelope,  and  unfolded  the  piece  of  brown  paper  from  out 
of  which  fluttered  to  the  floor  another  and  thicker  slip, 
stained  almost  beyond  recognition.  With  staring  eyes  and 
face  as  white  as  driven  snow  she  read  the  few  words 
scrawled  in  pencil  on  the  brown  slip :  — 

DEAR  ROSE-POSE,  —  I  ain't  no  wish  to  meddle  with  any 
body's  business  —  but  I  "m  just  obeying  orders.  The  last  words 
I  heard  Jack  Sherrill  speak,  was  "  Give  —  love,"  and  he  fumbled 
at  his  breast  to  get  out  this  enclosed.  I  ain't  read  it  —  but  it 's 
his  heart's  blood  that's  on  it.  Give  my  love  to  all. 

Yours  forever, 

CHI. 

"  His  heart's  blood !  "  For  a  moment  the  words  con 
veyed  no  meaning.  She  picked  up  the  iron-rusty  browft 
slip  from  the  floor  ;  unfolded  it ;  read  —  Barry  Cornwall's 
love-song  in  her  own  handwriting! 

"  His  heart's  blood !  "  She  pressed  one  hand  hard  upon 
her  own  heart,  crushing  with  the  other  the  dark-stained 
slip.  Then,  with  one  wild  look  around  her  as  if  searching 
for  help,  she  ran  down  the  steps,  across  the  mowing,  over 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  325 

into  the  pasture  and  up  into  the  woodlands.  Deep,  deep 
into  the  heart  of  them  she  made  her  way,  as  her  mother, 
Mary  Blossom,  had  done  before  her;  but  now  there  was 
no  kneeling,  no  prayer,  no  petition  to  take  from  her  the 
intolerable  pain. 

She  was  young,  and  she  loved  as  the  young  love.  It 
was  not  God  whom  she  wanted  ;  it  was  "  Jack !  Jack  ! 
Jack  !  "  She  cast  herself  face  down  upon  the  ground,  and 
moaned  in  her  agony :  "  His  heart's  blood  —  his  heart's 
blood."  She  pressed  the  stained  paper  to  her  lips,  over 
and  over  again.  Then  she  opened  her  blouse  and  baring 
her  bosom,  laid  the  love-song  against  it  —  "  His  heart's 
blood  —  his  heart's  blood !  " 

So  her  mother  found  her. 


XXVI 

MAKIA-ANN'S  CRUSADE 

OF  late  Aunt  Tryphosa  had  been  growing  suspicious  of 
Maria- Ann,  and  the  latter  felt  she  was  being  watched ;  to 
use  her  own  words,  "  it  nettled  her." 

One  afternoon,  late  in  August,  her  grandmother,  coming 
upon  her  rather  suddenly  in  the  pasture  as  she  sat  under 
the  shade  of  a  patriarchal  butternut,  ostensibly  watching 
Dorcas,  asked  her  sharply  : 

"  What  you  doin',  Maria- Ann  ?  " 

"'Tendin'  to  my  own  business,"  retorted  Maria-Ann, 
with  an  unwonted  snap  in  her  voice,  and  hurriedly  folded 
something  out  of  sight  beneath  the  Hearthstone  Journal 
which  lay  upon  her  lap. 

This  was  the  signal  of  open  revolt  on  the  part  of  her 
granddaughter,  and  the  like  had  occurred  but  once  before 
in  all  the  time  of  her  up-bringing  with  Aunt  Tryphosa. 
The  old  dame's  lips  drew  to  a  thinner  line  than  usual,  as 
she  fired  the  second  shot  into  the  hostile  camp : 

"  You  been  cryin',  Maria- Ann." 

"  What  if  I  be  ?  "  demanded  her  granddaughter,  with  a 
flash  of  indignation  from  beneath  her  reddened  eyelids. 
"  S'pose  I  have  a  right  to  have  feelin's  same  as  other 
folks." 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  32T 

Suddenly  Aunt  Tryphosa  swooped  like  a  hen-hawk 
upon  a  small  piece  of  bright  scarlet  flannel,  that  the 
breeze  had  caught  away  from  the  protecting  folds  of 
the  Hearthstone  Journal,  and  landed  in  the  covert  of 
sweet  fern  just  at  her  feet. 

"What 's  that?  "  She  held  up  the  glowing  bit  of  color, 
dangling  it  before  Maria- Ann's  eyes. 

Upon  poor  Maria- Ann's  inflamed  sense  of  injustice,  it 
had  much  the  same  effect  as  a  red  rag  waved  before  the 
eyes  of  an  infuriated  bull. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  snatched  the  bit  of  cloth  from 
between  her  grandmother's  thumb  and  fore-finger,  and 
thrust  it  into  her  dress  waist,  crying  out  shrilly  in  her 
unwonted  excitement : 

"  You  let  that  be,  Grandmarm  Little !  It 's  my  cross 
and  I  'm  going  on  a  crusade  —  so  now !  " 

Aunt  Tryphosa  sat  down  rather  suddenly  in  the  middle 
of  the  sweet-fern  patch.  Was  Maria- Ann  going  crazy  ? 
Her  breath  came  short  and  sharp ;  she  drew  her  thin  lips 
still  more  tightly,  and,  although  really  alarmed,  braced 
herself  for  the  combat. 

"  What  'd  you  say  you  was  goin'  on,  Maria-Ann  ?  " 

"  I  never  knew  you  was  growin'  deef  before,  grandmarm ; 
I  said  a  crusade."  She  had  raised  her  voice  to  a  still 
higher  pitch,  as  she  stooped  to  gather  up  the  Hearth 
stone  Journal,  the  bits  of  red  cloth,  her  scissors,  and 
thimble  which  had  fallen  from  her  lap  as  she  sprang  to 
her  feet. 

"  Is  that  the  thing  you  read  me  about  last  winter  in  the 


328  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Journal,  with  the  soldiers  with  crosses  on  their  backs  on 
hosses  startin'  out  for  Jerusalem  ? "  demanded  the  old 
dame,  but  in  a  strangely  agitated  voice. 

"Yes,''  responded  Maria-Ann,  promptly,  but  with  less 
acerbity  of  manner. 

"  And  is  that  red  rag  you  hid  away  a  cross,  Maria-Ann 
Simmons  ?"  No  words  can  do  justice  to  the  old  dame's  tone 
and  its  implied  impiety  of  her  granddaughter's  conduct. 

Maria-Ann  was  silent. 

"  Be  you  a  Christian  girl,  or  an  idolater,  Maria-Ann  ?  " 

Her  grandmother's  voice  shook  pitiably.  Maria-Ann's 
conscience  gave  a  twinge,  when  she  heard  it ;  but  she  felt 
the  time  was  ripe,  and  she  must  put  in  the  sickle. 

"  I  hope  I  'm  a  Christian,  grandmarm,  but  I  'm  an  idol 
ater,  too,  —  Aunt  Tryphosa  drew  in  her  breath,  as  if 
hurt.  "  But,  anyway,  I  guess  I  was  an  American  'fore  I 
was  a  Christian,  an'  I  jest  idolize  my  Country  —  Maria- 
Ann's  eyes  filled  with  tears  — "  an'  I  can't  do  anything 
for  her,  nor  make  sacrifices  same  as  other  women  do  who 
can  send  their  husbands  — ,"  a  sob,  "  an'  lovers  — ,"  another 
sob,  "an'  nuss  'em,  an'  help  on  their  Country's  cause  livin' 
'way  up  here  in  an  old  back  paster  with  an  old  cow  - 
an'  an  old  wo  —  Oh,  grandmarm  !  "  Maria-Ann  broke 
down  utterly,  laid  her  head  upon  her  knees,  and  sobbed 
unrestrainedly. 

It  was  an  unusual  sight,  and  Aunt  Tryphosa  was 
troubled.  She  felt  it  necessary  to  beat  a  retreat  in  the 
face  of  such  genuine  grief,  but  she  was  determined  that  it 
should  be  a  dignified  one. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  329 

"  I  ain't  never  seen  you  give  way  so,  Maria-Ann,  and 
you  're  thirty-one  year  old  come  next  January.  I  've  done 
my  best  to  bring  you  up  right,  an'  now  you  're  old  enough 
to  know  your  own  mind,  /  hope  ;  so,  if  you  want  to  leave 
me,  you  can  go  jest  as  soon  as  you  can  get  ready.  I  come 
up  for  Dorcas,  an'  now  I  'm  goin'  home."  In  spite  of  her 
effort  her  old  voice  trembled,  but  her  pride  sustained  her 
nobly,  and  Maria-Ann  was  all  unaware  that  the  tears  were 
rolling  down  the  wrinkled  furrows  in  the  old  cheeks  as 
her  grandmother  drove  Dorcas  before  her  down  the  fern- 
scented  pasture  slope. 

Her  granddaughter  followed  her  half  an  hour  later,  and 
after  a  silent  supper,  except  for  Aunt  Tryphosa's  mur 
mured  "grace,"  and  a  faint  "amen"  from  the  other  side 
of  the  table,  Maria-Ann  lighted  a  lamp  and  shut  herself 
into  her  small  bedroom. 

She  placed  a  chair  against  the  door,  lest  she  might  be 
suddenly  raided,  and  drew  the  other  splint-bottomed  one 
up  to  the  head  of  the  bed.  Lifting  the  feather-bed  she 
thrust  her  hand  far  under  and  drew  out  a  square,  white 
pasteboard  box.  It  was  tied  with  a  narrow,  white  ribbon. 
She  undid  it  carefully,  and  took  out  a  layer  of  tissue  paper. 
The  lamp-light  shone  upon  a  large,  gilt  heart,  some  ten  by 
eight  inches,  with  a  thickness  of  two  inches. 

Maria- Ann  turned  the  box  this  way  and  that,  watching 
the  play  of  light  on  it,  for  the  heart  was  skewered  with  a 
large,  silver-gilt  arrow,  and  the  shaft,  where  it  penetrated, 
held  a  small,  white  card  with  simulated  blood-drops  in 
carmine  splashed  on  in  one  corner,  and  the  sentiment, 


330  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

written  in  the  same,  straggling  diagonally  across  the  other 

corner : 

"  In  thy  sight 
Is  my  delight." 

Maria-Ann  shut  her  eyes  and  leaned  back  in  her  chair. 
"  Don't  seems  as  if  he  'd  sent  me  that  if  he  had  n't  meant 
somethin',"  she  murmured,  and  dreamed  for  a  little  while. 
Then  she  opened  her  eyes,  prepared  for  new  delights.  Rais 
ing  the  gilt  top  with  tender  care,  she  took  out  a  faded  rose : 

"  Don't  seem  as  if  he  'd  come  back  that  nex'  mornin' 
after  Chris'mus  an'  give  me  that,  'thout  he'd  had  some 
notion."  She  laid  the  rose  carefully  upon  the  tissue  paper, 
and  began  to  lift  the  leaves  of  the  heart-shaped  book,  until 
she  had  lifted  every  one  of  the  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  !  She  smiled  to  herself. 

"  'T  ain't  likely  he  'd  'a'  sent  me  jest  such  a  cook-book, 
'thout  he  'd  been  tryin'  to  give  me  a  hint."  She  began  to 
read  the  recipes  —  it  was  absorbing :  puddings,  cakes,  pre 
serves.  She  was  lost  to  time  as  she  read ;  "  An'  he  took 
that  pair  of  socks  I  knit  him  last  Chris'mus  'long  with 
him,  Rose  said  —  "  There  was  a  fumbling  at  her  door. 
Maria-Ann  blew  out  the  light. 

"  That  you,  grandmarm  ?  "  she  called  pleasantly. 

There  was  no  answer,  and  Maria-Ann  laughed  softly 
to  herself  as  she  undressed  in  the  dark,  and  lay  down  to 
sweet  dreams. 

"  I  'm  goin'  over  to  Mis'  Blossom's,  grandmarm,"  she 
announced  the  next  afternoon,  "•  to  see  if  they  've  had  any 
news.  I  ain't  heard  for  two  days." 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  331 

Her  grandmother  made  no  reply,  but  when  her  grand 
daughter  was  well  on  her  way  to  the  Blossoms',  Mrs.  Try- 
phosa  Little's  conscience  deemed  it  prudent  to  issue  a 
private  search-warrant  and  investigate  Maria- Ann's  prem 
ises  —  even  to  the  under  side  of  the  feather-bed.  The  re 
sults  perfectly  justified  the  search,  and  upon  Maria- Ann's 
return  just  before  tea,  she  was  amazed  to  have  her  grand 
mother  offer  her  a  wrinkled  cheek  to  kiss. 

"  Why,  grandmarm  ! "  exclaimed  Maria-Ann,  in  joyful 
surprise,  "  I  'm  so  glad  you  ain't  laid  it  up  against  me  — 

"  I  can  see  through  a  barn-door  when  't  is  wide  open, 
even  at  my  time  of  life,  Maria-Ann  Simmons,"  said  the 
old  dame,  interrupting  her. 

"  What  did  you  hear  over  to  Ben's  ?  " 

"  Hazel 's  just  had  a  letter  from  her  father,  and  he  says 
they  've  got  Mr.  Sherrill  home  to  New  York,  an'  if  nothin' 
new  sets  in,  he  '11  get  over  it,  but  his  lungs  '11  be  weak, 
mebbe,  for  two  years.  He  was  shot  clean  through  the 
lungs." 

"  What  do  they  hear  from  Chi  ?  " 

Maria- Ann's  face  grew  suddenly  radiant.  "  Oh,  he  's 
been  awful  sick  with  the  fever,  an'  ain't  left  Cuby  yet,  but 
he  '11  come  North  jest  as  soon  as  he  can  be  transported. 
I  've  been  talking  over  my  plans  with  Mis'  Blossom  an' 
Rose  an'  Hazel,  an'  they  're  goin'  to  do  everything  they  can 
for  me." 

"  So  you  're  a-goin'  to  Cuby,  Maria-Ann  ?  " 

"  Yes,  grandmarm,  I  've  got  a  call  to  go  an'  nuss  our 
sick  an'  wounded ;  I  've  been  readin'  a  lot  'bout  the  Red 


332  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Cross  misses  in  the  Hearthstone  Journal,  an'  I  'm  goin'  to 
wear  a  cross,  an'  Hazel 's  goin'  to  pay  my  fare,  an'  I  'm 
goin'  to  stop  to  Mr.  Clyde's  when  I  get  to  New  York, 
an'  he  '11  start  me  all  right  for  Cuby  —  " 

"  Them  beets  are  burnin'  on,  Maria-Ann ;  guess  you  'd 
better  stop  for  jest  one  more  meal  on  the  Mountin,  had  n't 
you?"  said  her  grandmother,  dryly. 

Maria- Ann  laughed  merrily.  "  I  know,  grandmarm,  it 
seems  kinder  queer  and  foolish  to  you,  but  I  feel  as  if  I 
could  go  now  with  nothin'  on  my  mind,  for  you  know 
Mandy's  girl  is  comin'  to  stay  all  September  an'  October, 
an'  she  's  grand  help.  You  won't  begin  to  miss  me  'fore 
I  '11  be  back  —  an'  I  '11  own  up,  grandmarm,  ever  since  Rose 
Blossom  went  to  New  York  last  winter,  I  've  hankered 
after  seein'  more  of  the  world  'sides  Mount  Hunger." 

"  When  you  goin'  to  start  ?  " 

"  I  calc'late  'bout  the  last  of  next  week,  that  '11  be  into 
September  — -  here,  let  me  pare  them  beets,  grandmarm ;  " 
and  forthwith  she  seized  the  pan,  and  began  peeling  the 
steaming,  deep-red  balls,  singing  heartily  the  while: 

"  '  Must  I  be  carried  to  the  skies 

Oil  flowery  beds  of  ease, 
"While  others  fought  to  win  the  prize, 
And  sailed  through  bloody  seas  ?  "' 

"  Now  be  careful,  and  change  at  White  River  Junction," 
were  Mr.  Blossom's  parting  words  at  the  station.  "  After 
that  you  go  right  through  to  New  York." 

"  I  '11  take  good  care,  don't  you  any  of  you  worry  'bout 
me !  "  She  waved  her  handkerchief  from  the  back  platform 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  333 

of  the  car  to  the  little  group  she  was  leaving,  —  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Blossom,  Rose,  March  and  Hazel,  Captain  Spillkins 
and  Susan  Wood,  with  Elvira  and  Melissa.  She  was 
inflated  with  heroic  resolve,  and  felt  ennobled  to  be  going 
forth  to  do  battle,  as  she  termed  it  to  herself,  for  her  Coun 
try's  cause.  Moreover  she  was  seeing  the  world,  and  even 
at  the  start  she  found  it  most  interesting,  for  she  had  been 
but  ten  miles  at  most  by  train,  and  here  she  was  speeding 
towards  White  River  Junction,  distant  forty  miles  from 
Barton's  River. 

She  longed  to  communicate  her  enthusiasm  to  the  occu 
pants  of  the  car,  but  found  only  one  opportunity.  She 
offered  to  hold  a  baby,  one  of  a  family  of  five,  while  the 
mother  fed  and  watered  the  other  four.  She  continued  to 
dandle  it  recklessly  till  the  woman  protested : 

"  Guess  you  ain't  had  a  fam'ly,"  she  remarked  sternly, 
rescuing  her  child  ;  "  a  woman  of  your  age  ought  to  know 
better  'n  to  shake  a  baby  up  so  when  he  's  teethin'  —  't  ain't 
good  for  their  brains — like  enough  bring  on  chol'ry  morbis." 
She  pulled  down  the  small  clothes,  turned  the  atom  over  on 
its  stomach,  and  patted  its  back  with  a  broad  hand  and  a 
dove-like  settling  motion  that  bespoke  the  mater-familias. 

Maria-Ann  looked  out  of  the  window.  True,  she  had  n't 
any  family  —  only  Grandmarm  Little  and  Aunt  Mandy's 
one  daughter  who  had  just  come  to  visit  them.  What  was 
Aunt  Tryphosa  doing  now  ?  She  was  dreaming  again,  and 
before  she  could  realize  it,  the  brakeman  called,  "  White 
River  Junction !  Change  cars  for  all  points  south  via 
Windsor,  Springfield,  New  York." 


334  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

Hearing  that,  Maria-Ann  felt  as  if  she  had  already  trav 
elled  a  thousand  miles,  so  far  away  seemed  Mount  Hunger 
and  its  uneventful  life. 

She  found  herself  on  the  platform.  She  had  been  so 
confident  of  taking  care  of  herself  —  and  now  !  She  looked 
helplessly  about.  Trains  to  the  right  of  her,  trains  to  the 
left  of  her,  trains  in  front  of  her  and  behind  her  switched, 
and  shifted,  and  thundered.  Engine-bells,  dinner-bells, 
train-bells  ;  stentorian  voices  of  baggage-men,  brakemen, 
call-men ;  frantic  women,  screaming  babies,  hurrying  por 
ters,  indifferent  travellers,  fashionable  women  arid  city 
men ;  farmers,  children,  baskets,  shawl-straps,  dress-suit 
cases,  golf  bags,  boys ;  dogs,  yelping  and  crying,  in  arms 
or  in  leash ;  canaries  in  their  wooden  cages  shrilling  over 
all ;  and  hither  and  thither  and  yon  a  bustling,  and  rust 
ling,  and  rattling,  and  roaring,  and  clanking,  and  hissing, 
and  shrieking,  and  hurrying,  and  scurrying,  and  pushing, 
and  hauling,  and  prodding,  and  rushing!  For  a  minute 
Maria-Ann  was  dazed  and  almost  stunned.  Then  her 
courage  rose  to  the  occasion.  This  was  the  famous  Junc 
tion  of  which  she  had  heard  so  much.  This  was  the  great 
world.  This  was  Life  1 

"  I  '11  stand  stock-still  an'  wait  till  it  clears  up  a  little. 
I  've  got  an  hour  here,  an'  mebbe  I  '11  see  somebody  from 
Barton's,"  she  said  to  herself,  and  had  just  put  down  her 
valise  when  a  hoarse  voice  cried  in  her  ear,  —  "Hi,  there  ! 
get  out  of  the  way ! " 

She  dodged  a  baggage  truck  piled  high  with  toppling 
trunks,  only  to  be  caught  in  the  surging,  living  stream, 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  335 

and  carried  with  it  up  a  step  into  the  restaurant  of  the 
station. 

To  Maria-Ann  it  was  a  marvellous  sight.  She  set  down 
her  valise  by  a  window  and,  standing  guard  in  front 
of  it,  gazed  about  her  with  intense  satisfaction.  In  truth 
this  was  seeing  the  great  world,  of  which  she  had  read  so 
much  in  the  Journal  and  for  which  she  had  longed,  at  first 
hand.  Around  the  counter  —  a  long  oval  —  were  perched 
on  the  high,  wooden,  spring  stools  "all  sorts  and  condi 
tions  of  men,"  with  a  sprinkling  of  women  and  children. 
There  was  perpetual  motion  of  knives,  forks,  teaspoons, 
arms,  hands,  mouths,  —  and  a  noisy  conglomerate  beyond 
description,  accented  by  the  shriek  and  toot  of  the  switch- 
engines. 

Suddenly  the  clangor  of  a  gong-like  bell  and  a  stentorian 
voice  rose  above  the  chaos  of  sound  ;  —  there  was  a  momen 
tary  lull  in  the  confusion  of  masticating  utensils,  followed 
by  a  general  slipping,  sliding,  and  jumping  off  the  round 
wooden  perches,  —  and  to  Maria- Ann's  amazement,  the 
room  was  nearly  vacant. 

"  Now  's  my  time,"  said  Maria-Ann,  with  considerable 
complacency,  and  forthwith  proceeded  to  hoist  herself,  by 
means  of  the  foot-rail,  upon  one  of  the  seats,  at  the  same 
time  placing  her  valise  on  another  at  her  right.  She  looked 
at  the  varied  assortment  of  delectables  —  an  embarrassment 
of  riches :  jelly-roll  cakes,  pickles,  squash  pie,  baked  beans, 
frosted  tea-cakes,  sage  cheese,  ham  sandwiches,  lemon  pie, 
cold,  spice-speckled  custards,  doughnuts,  great  as  to  their 
circumference,  startling  as  to  their  cubical  contents. 


336  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

"  I  've  heard  tell  of  them,"  said  Maria-Ann  to  herself,  as 
her  eye,  ranging  the  oval  marble  slab,  encountered  a  pyrami 
dal  pile  of  New  England's  doughty  cruller.  "  I  '11  have 
two  of  them,  I  guess,"  she  said  to  the  indifferent  attendant, 
"  an'  a  cup  of  coffee ;  that  '11  last  me  for  a  spell,  and  I  can 
keep  my  lunch  for  supper."  She  expected  some  response 
to  her  explanation,  but  there  was  none  forthcoming,  save 
that  a  cup  of  coffee,  half-pint  size,  was  shoved  over  the 
counter  towards  her,  and  the  huge  glass  dome  that  pro 
tected  the  doughnuts  was  removed  with  a  jerk,  and  the 
towering  pile  set  down  in  front  of  her. 

Maria-Ann  helped  herself.  It  seemed  rather  tame, 
after  so  much  excitement,  to  be  eating  a  doughnut  the 
size  of  a  small  feather-bed,  without  company.  She  looked 
around.  There  were  but  three  or  four  at  the  entire  counter. 
Farther  down  to  the  left,  his  tall,  gaunt  figure  silhouetted 
against  the  blank  of  the  large  window,  a  man  was  seated, 
bestriding  the  perch  as  if  it  were  a  horse.  He  wore  the 
undress  uniform  of  the  volunteer  cavalry.  When  Maria- 
Ann  discovered  this,  she  felt  for  a  moment,  to  use  her 
own  expression,  "flustered."  The  mere  presence  of  the 
uniform  brought  to  her  a  realizing  sense  of  the  importance 
of  her  mission ;  it  seemed  to  bring  her  at  once  into  touch 
with  far-away  Cuba,  and  the  feminine  knights  of  the  Red 
Cross  ;  with  —  her  heart  gave  a  joyful  thump  —  with  Chi ! 
She  felt  in  a  way  ennobled  to  be  eating  her  doughnut 
within  speaking  distance  of  a  hero  (they  were  all  that  in 
Maria-Ann's  idealizing  imagination). 

She  had  bitten  only  halfway  into  the  periphery  of  the 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  337 

doughnut,  when  the  man  stepped  from  his  seat.  She 
watched  him  as  he  moved  slowly  towards  the  door;  his 
back  was  turned  to  her.  How  feebly  he  moved  !  Almost 
seeming  to  drag  one  foot  after  the  other. 

A  great  flood  of  patriotic  pity  engulfed  Maria-Ann's 
whole  being.  She  forgot  the  doughnuts ;  she  left  the 
coffee;  she  forgot  even  her  valise;  her  one  thought  was 
as  she  slid  from  the  stool :  "  I  ain't  no  call  to  wait  till  I 
get  to  Cuby ;  I  'm  just  as  much  a  Red  Cross  nuss  right 
here  in  White  River  Junction,  Vermont,  as  if  I  was  a 
thousand  miles  away."  The  girl  at  the  counter  looked 
after  her  in  amazement  —  she  hadn't  even  paid  I  But 
there  was  her  valise. 

She  saw  Maria-Ann  whisk  something  out  of  her  dress- 
waist  and  stop  halfway  down  the  room  to  pin  it  on  her 
sleeve,  and  lo  and  behold !  —  it  was  a  cross  of  bright  red 
flannel.  She  saw  her  hurry  after  the  man,  who  had 
dragged  himself  to  the  doorway,  and  stood  there  leaning 
heavily  against  the  jamb. 

"  If  you  're  goin'  to  take  a  train,  just  you  let  me  help 
you  aboard,"  she  said,  speaking  just  at  his  elbow.  The 
man's  head  half  turned  with  a  jerk.  "  You  ain't  fit  to 
stan'  more  'n  an  eight  months  baby,  an'  I  'm  a  Red  Cross 
nuss  on  my  way  to  Cuby  — 

A  gaunt,  yellow  face  with  haggard  eyes  was  turned 
slowly  full  upon  her,  and  a  hand,  shaking,  as  that  of  a 
man  in  drink,  was  laid  on  her  arm  : 

"  Don't  you  know  me,  Marier-Ann  ?  " 

Maria-Ann  sat  down  suddenly  on  the  doorstep  at  the 

22 


338  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

man's  feet.  There  was  no  strength  left  in  her.  Then  she 
put  her  head  into  her  hands,  and  began  to  cry  softly ; 
there  were  few  to  see  her,  and  had  the  whole  world  been 
there,  she  would  not  have  cared. 

"  Just  help  me  into  the  waitin'-room,  Marier-Ann,  where 
we  can  talk." 

She  bounced  to  her  feet,  with  streaming,  tear-blinded 
eyes,  and  Chi,  linking  his  arm  in  hers,  led  her  into  the 
"Ladies'  Room." 

A  porter  followed  them  in  ;  he  addressed  Chi.  "  She 
ain't  paid  for  what  she  ordered,  and  she  ain't  eat  it  neither, 
and  she  's  left  her  valise." 

Chi  pulled  out  a  ten-cent  piece  and  put  it  into  his  hand. 
"  Bring  'em  all  in,"  he  said,  "  grub  'n'  all,  'n'  I  '11  pay  for 
'em.  We  '11  sit  here  a  spell  till  train  time."  Maria-Ann 
sobbed  afresh. 

The  porter  brought  in  the  plate  with  the  doughnuts,  the 
cup  of  coffee,  and  the  valise,  and  set  them  down  on  the 
wooden  settee.  He  pointed  to  the  ten-cent  piece  that 
lay  within  the  inner  ring  of  a  doughnut : 

"  I  don't  take  nothin'  of  that  kind  from  you  fellers." 
He  touched  the  bit  of  braid  on  the  cuff  of  Chi's  coat ;  Chi 
smiled,  and  pocketed  the  money. 

"  Guess  you  was  n't  expectin'  to  meet  an  old  friend  so 
soon,  was  you?"  said  Chi,  gently,  setting  the  plate  in  her 
lap. 

Maria-Ann  shook  her  head  vigorously,  but  she  could 
not  control  the  sobs.  Chi  crossed  one  leg  over  the  other, 
and  waited. 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  339 

The  flies  buzzed  on  the  smoke-thickened  panes,  and  an 
empty  truck  rattled  down  the  platform.  There  were  no 
other  sounds. 

"  When  does  your  train  go,  Marier-Ann?" 

There  was  another  sob,  but  no  answer. 

"  Did  n't  I  hear  you  say  you  was  on  your  way  to  Cuby  ?  " 

Maria-Ann  nodded. 

"  Bad  place  for  women  —  'n'  men,  too.  What  you 
goin'  for?" 

Maria-Ann's  answer  was  only  half  audible  :  "  To  nuss." 

"  To  nuss  ?  Ain't  there  enough  nussin'  you  can  do 
nearer  home  ?  " 

Maria-Ann  looked  up  with  tear-reddened  eyes.  "  I 
did  n't  think  so  —  "  a  sob  —  "  till  I  saw  you,  Chi.  I  did  n't 
know  you  —  I  thought  I  'd  begin  right  now,  before  I  got 
there  —  "  her  hands  covered  her  eyes  again. 

Chi's  trembling  ones,  weak  from  the  fever,  drew  her 
cold  ones  down  from  her  face. 

"  You  did  just  right,  Marier-Ann,  to  want  to  begin  right 
now.  —  The  Barton's  River  train  is  due  to  start  from  here 
in  fifteen  minutes  ;  —  s'posin'  you  give  up  Cuby,  'n'  come 
along  home,  'n'  try  nussin'  me.  I  need  it  bad  enough." 

"Oh,  Chi,  do  you  mean  it?"  Maria-Ann  caught  her 
breath. 

"  You  bet  I  do,"  said  Chi,  emphatically,  "  only  "  —  he 
paused  and  took  up  the  plate  from  her  lap,  spilling  the 
coffee,  for  the  trembling  of  his  hand  had  increased — "if 
you  're  goin'  to  undertake  it  with  me,  it 's  got  to  be  a  life 
job,  Marier-Ann." 


340  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

The  flies  continued  to  buzz  on  the  smoke-thickened 
panes.  The  train  for  Barton's  River  steamed  in  from  the 
siding.  The  couple  in  the  waiting-room  boarded  it.  The 
porter  watched  them  with  a  queer  smile.  Then  he  took 
up  the  plate  of  uneaten  doughnuts  and  the  cup  of  cooled 
coffee,  and  handed  them  to  the  girl  behind  the  counter. 

"  She  ain't  eat  'em,  after  all,"  she  said.  "  She  acted 
kinder  queer  for  a  Red  Cross  nurse." 

"  He 's  the  chap  I  give  the  telegram  to  when  he  got 
here  on  the  up-train  last  night." 

"What  was  it?" 

"  Twenty-five  cent  one  from  Barton's  River  — '  M.  A. 
starts  for  Cuba  Thursday  stop  her  at  Junction.' " 

The  girl  laughed,  and  the  restaurant  filled  again. 


XXVII 

"  —  The  stars  above 
Shine  ever  on  Love  —  " 

"  I  'M  goin'  up  into  the  clearin',  Mis'  Blossom,  to  see  if 
there  ain't  some  late  blackberries,"  said  Chi,  a  few  days 
after  his  triumphal  return  with  Maria- Ann.  "  Seems  as  if 
the  smell  of  the  sun  on  that  spruce-bush  up  yonder  would 
put  new  life  into  me  —  I  feel  so  kind  of  shif'less." 

"  I  would,  Chi,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom ;  "  you  have  n't 
begun  to  get  your  strength  back  yet,  and  the  more  you  're 
out  in  this  air,  without  overworking,  the  better  it  will  be 
for  you." 

"  I  '11  go  with  you,  Chi,"  said  Rose,  looking  up  from  her 
work,  as  she  sat  sewing  on  the  lower  step  of  the  porch. 

"  That 's  right,  Rose-pose ;  it  '11  seem  like  old  times." 
Chi  followed  her  with  wistful  eyes  as  she  turned  to  go 
up  stairs. 

"  I  '11  be  down  in  a  few  minutes,  Chi ;  we  'd  better  take 
the  two-quart  pails,  had  n't  we  ?  " 

"  Maybe  we  '11  find  enough  for  one  or  two  messes." 

He  turned  to  Mrs.  Blossom  when  Rose  had  left  the 
room.  "  Can't  there  nothin'  be  done  'bout  it,  Mis' 
Blossom  ?  "  He  spoke  almost  wistfully. 

Mrs.  Blossom's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  hesitated  a 
moment  before  she  spoke :  "  I  know  Rose  so  well,  Chi, 


342  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

that  I  dare  not  interfere.  I  doubt  if  she  would  accept 
anything,  even  from  me,  her  mother." 

"  It  beats  me,"  Chi  sighed  heavily.  "  He  's  just  a-pinin' 
for  a  word  or  sign,  'n'  there  ain't  no  use  talkin'  —  she  's 
got  to  give  it ;  I  'd  back  him  up  every  time,  he  's  done 
enough  — • " 

"  Sh  —  !  "  Mrs.  Blossom  held  up  her  finger  ;  she  heard 
Rose  on  the  stairs.  Chi  looked  up  —  his  old  Rose-pose 
stood  before  him :  old,  faded,  green  and  white  calico  dress, 
old  sunbonnet,  patched  shoes !  Chi  turned  away  abruptly 
to  get  his  pails  ;  and  her  mother  wondered,  but  said  nothing. 

They  found  more  than  one  "patch,"  where  the  berries 
hung  in  luscious  clusters  of  shining  jet.  Chi  pummelled 
his  chest,  and  drew  deep,  deep  breaths  of  the  balsamic 
mountain  air.  "  This  sets  a  man  up,  Rose-pose ;  there 
ain't  nothin'  like  the  air  on  this  Mountain  for  an  all-round 
tonic.  Let 's  sit  here  a  spell,  right  by  this  sweet  fern." 

She  pushed  back  the  sunbonnet  as  she  sat  down  beside 
him.  "  Tired,  Chi  ?  " 

"  No  —  rests  me  clear  through  just  to  sit  'n'  look  off 
onto  those  slopes,  just  about  as  green  as  in  June." 

They  sat  awhile  in  silence ;  then  Chi  turned  and  picked 
up  the  sunbonnet  that  had  fallen  from  her  head.  He 
touched  it  gently. 

"Remember  the  first  time  you  sold  berries  in  that  rig, 
Rose-pose  ?  " 

The  blood  surged  into  Rose's  face,  and  receded,  leaving 
it  strangely  white.  Chi  felt  his  heart  contract  at  the 
change,  but  he  went  on : 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  343 

"  First  time  Jack  ever  saw  you  was  in  that  rig.  —  You 
ain't  changed  so  much  but  he  'd  know  you  again  if  he  saw 
you  in  Chiny." 

Still  there  was  silence.     Chi  moistened  his  lips. 

"  Can't  say  as  much  for  him  ;  never  saw  such  a  change  ; 
he  's  all  fallen  away  to  nothin'  but  skin  and  bones.  Doctor 
Heath  told  me  just  before  I  left  —  'n'  he  put  me  aboard 
the  train  —  that  nothin'  could  set  him  up  again  but  this 
Mountain  air,  'n'  good  food,  'n'  -  "  Chi  paused ;  his  mouth 
was  uncomfortably  dry.  Rose's  face  was  turned  from  him, 
but  he  saw  a  contraction  of  her  delicate  throat,  as  if  a  dry 
sob  were  suddenly  suppressed.  Then  she  spoke  in  a 
monotone : 

"  Why  does  n't  he  come,  then  ?  " 

"  Why  I  -  Chi  fairly  startled  himself  with  his  thun 
dering  "why,"  and  Rose  half  started  from  the  ground. 
The  blood  leaped  to  her  very  temples ;  seeing  which,  Chi 
took  heart  —  "  Coz  he  's  every  inch  a  man,  Rose  Blossom ; 
'n'  he 's  got  too  much  grit  of  the  right  sort  to  ask  a  girl 
twice,  he  's  about  given  his  heart's  blood  for. 

"He  ain't  a-goin'  to  come  crawlin'  up  here  to  ask  no 
favors  of  you  after  he  knows  that  you  know  —  'n'  I  glory 
in  his  spunk.  But  I  can  tell  you,  if  you  don't  look  out, 
you  '11  come  nearer  to  bein'  a  real  Molly  Stark  than  you 
ever  thought  you  could  be  when  you  joined  the  N.  B.  B.  O.  O., 
'n'  by  George  Washin'ton !  it  goes  against  me  to  see  you 
breakin'  the  by-laws  you  pledged  yourself  to  stand  by, 
every  minute  of  your  life  that  you  keep  so  dumb  towards 
Jack  Sherrill ;  —  for  you  're  provin'  yourself  a  coward  in 
your  love,  'n'  you  '11  have  a  widowed  heart  to  pay  for  it 


344  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

mighty  soon,  if  you  keep  on,  that'll  be  worse  than  Molly 
Stark's  any  day  —  A  whisper  stopped  him : 

"  Chi,  Chi,  tell  him  to  come  —  I  want  him  so  ;  oh,  Chi !  " 

Chi's  hand  was  laid  on  the  bowed  head  with  its  crown  of 
shining,  golden-brown  braids:  "Rose  Blossom,  may  God 
Almighty  bless  you  for  proving  yourself  a  true  woman, 
'n'  worthy  of  the  mother  that  bore  you.  I  can't  say  any 
more." 

An  hour  later  March  Blossom,  with  a  telegram  in  his 
hand,  was  speeding  on  Fleet  to  Barton's  River ;  and  two 
days  afterwards  Mr.  Blossom  and  Alan  Ford  in  the  double 
wagon,  and  Chi  alone  in  the  buggy,  drove  down  to  Barton's 
to  meet  the  up-train.  Mrs.  Blossom  and  Rose  stood  on 
the  porch  straining  their  eyes  in  the  quickly-falling  Sep 
tember  twilight  to  see  any  movement  on  the  lower  road. 
The  children  had  been  sent  over  to  Hunger-ford  till  after 
tea,  for  Jack  was  not  strong  enough  to  bear  a  too  joyful 
home-coming. 

"  They  're  coming,  Rose,"  said  Mrs.  Blossom,  in  a  low 
tone ;  then  she  turned  abruptly,  and  went  into  the  house, 
leaving  Rose  alone  on  the  step. 

"  Here  we  are,  safe  'n'  sound,"  said  Chi,  in  an  affectedly 
cheery  voice,  as  he  drove  out  of  the  woods'-road.  "  Just 
wait  a  minute,  Jack,  'n'  I  '11  give  you  an  arm  gettin'  out." 
He  laid  the  reins  on  the  dasher.  Then  he  assisted  the  tall, 
gaunt  figure  of  the  man  beside  him  to  alight.  Jack  half 
stumbled,  for  his  eyes  were  seeking  Rose  —  and  Rose  ? 

All  her  womanhood,  all  the  sacred  privileges  of  wifehood, 
came  to  her  aid  at  that  moment.  She  sprang  to  the  car 
riage,  and,  with  one  hand,  put  Chi  aside ;  with  the  other, 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  345 

she  lifted  Jack's  half -nerveless  arm  and  laid  it  over  her 
shoulders ;  then,  encircling  him  with  her  own  slender  one, 
she  said  gently,  guiding  him  to  the  porch  step : 
"  Lean  on  me,  dearest." 

On  the  first  of  November,  one  of  the  short-lived  Indian 
Summer  days,  the  farmhouse  on  Mount  Hunger  literally 
blossomed  like  a  rose. 

A  week  beforehand  there  had  been  an  animated  discus 
sion  as  to  what  should  be  the  wedding  decorations  of  the 
"  long-room."  Hazel,  who  had  been  with  them  a  week 
already,  settled  it. 

"As  if  there  could  be  any  choice!"  she  exclaimed. 
"  It 's  been  great  fun  to  hear  you  all  suggesting  this,  that, 
and  the  other,  from  ground  hemlock  and  bitter-sweet,  to 
everlasting !  But  Jack  and  I  settled  it  three  weeks  ago  — 
how  could  there  be  anything  for  Rose,  but  roses  ?  Any 
way,  that 's  what  Jack  wrote,  and  our  florist  looked  fairly 
dazed  when  I  gave  him  the  order  —  just  bushels  of  them, 
Rose-pose,  lovely  La  France  ones,  like  those  you  threw 
into  the  —  No,  I  won't  tease  you,  Cousin  mine,"  she  said, 
with  a  merry  laugh,  as  Rose  looked  at  her  appealingly. 

And  now,  on  the  wedding  morning  of  the  first  of  Novem 
ber,  the  great  box  that  Chi  had  brought  up  from  Barton's 
the  night  before  was  opened,  and  in  Hazel's  skilful  fingers 
the  exquisite  pink  blooms  lent  to  the  "long-room  "  a  won 
derful  grace  and  beauty. 

She  was  flitting  about  in  her  pale  pink  cashmere  dress  — 
"  Made  specially  to  match  the  roses,"  she  said  to  March, 
as  she  dropped  him  a  curtsy  preparatory  to  pinning  a  rose 


346  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

into  his  buttonhole.    "  We  must  all  wear  Rose-pose's  badge 
to-day.     Where  are  you,  Budd  ?  " 

"Here,"  said  her  knight,  promptly  appearing  with  Cherry 
from  the  pantry,  where  they  had  been  counting  the  frost 
ing-roses  on  the  wedding-cake.  He  looked  down  at  the 
slender  ringers  as  they  pulled  the  stem  of  the  pink  bud 
through  the  buttonhole  of  his  jacket,  and  thought  —  of  the 
ring  !  Then  he  looked  up  at  the  tall,  beautiful  girl  bending 
over  him,  and,  somehow,  the  day  of  his  proposal  seemed 
very  far  away  in  the  Past.  Hazel  was  so  grown  up !  —  as 
tall  as  Rose.  Still,  he  was  n't  going  to  be  afraid,  if  she 
was  grown  up.  Now  was  his  time  ;  —  and  "  Ethan  Allan  " 
always  made  the  most  of  his  opportunities.  Budd  was  in 
United  States  History,  this  term,  and  he  knew  this  for  a 
fact. 

He  drew  forth  from  his  breeches'  pocket  a  something 
that  might  once  have  been  white,  but,  at  present,  looked 
more  like  a  shoe-rag,  it  was  so  dingy  and  soiled. 

"  I  've  kept  it,  you  see,  Hazel,"  he  said,  his  small  mouth 
puckering,  his  round,  light-blue  eyes  growing  rounder,  as 
he  looked  up  at  Hazel,  with  twelve-year-old  earnestness. 

"  Kept  what  ?  "  said  Hazel,  mystified,  and  holding  up 
the  offering  gingerly  between  thumb  and  forefinger  to 
examine  it. 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  ?  —  the  glove  you  gave  me  when 
you  said  you  'd  be  my  Lady-love  ?  don't  you  remember,  — 
in  the  barn  ?  "  answered  Budd,  slightly  crestfallen. 

Hazel  laughed  merrily.  "  Oh,  you  funny  boy ! "  she 
said,  "  to  keep  an  old  glove  of  mine  for  nearly  a  year  and 
a  half !  Why,  it 's  nearly  black  and  blue.  Have  you  kept 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  347 

it  in  your  best  Sunday-go-to-meeting  trousers'  pocket  all 
this  time  ?  " 

Budd  nodded,  but  soberly.  Seeing  which,  Hazel  gave 
him  a  pat  on  the  top  of  his  head,  and  assured  him  she 
would  give  him  one  of  her  cleaned  party  gloves  once  a 
year  till  he  was  twenty-one,  if  only  he  would  promise  not 
to  keep  it  in  his  pocket  with  spruce-gum,  chalk,  chestnuts, 
lead-pencil  sharpenings,  top-twine,  jack-knives,  and  ginger 
cookie  crumbs. 

"  How  'd  you  know  I  had  all  those  tilings  in  my 
pocket?"  demanded  Budd,  in  his  amazement  forgetting 
his  sentiment. 

"  Oh,  a  little  bird  told  me,"  replied  Hazel.  "  Run  and 
ask  Chi  to  come  in,  will  you  ?  I  have  his  rose  ready  for 
him,  and  it 's  most  time  for  them  all  to  come." 

It  was  a  quiet  wedding.  Only  those  nearest  and  dearest 
were  about  them ;  Mr.  Sherrill,  Aunt  Carrie  and  Uncle 
Jo,  Mr.  Clyde  and  Hazel,  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Heath,  the 
Blossoms  and  Chi. 

Afterwards  all  the  Lost  Nation  came  in  to  give  their 
heart-felt  blessings  and  good  wishes.  They  were  all  there 
— from  Maria-Ann,  radiant  in  the  realization  of  her  own 
romance,  to  Miss  Alton  and  the  Fords,  who  were  to  leave 
on  the  night  train  to  remain  six  weeks  in  New  York,  and 
had  placed  Hunger-ford  at  the  disposal  of  Rose  and  Jack 
during  the  first  weeks  of  their  marriage.  They  remained 
but  a  little  while,  for  the  excitement  was  almost  more  than 
Jack  was  able  to  bear. 

The  moon  rose  between  six  and  seven,  largely  luminous 


348  A  Daughter  of  the  Rich 

and  slightly  reddened  through  the  soft,  warm  haze  of  the 
Indian  Summer  night.  Rose  had  insisted,  that,  if  the 
night  were  mild,  Jack  should  ride  over  to  Hunger-ford 
at  a  snail's  pace  on  Little  Shaver,  and  that  she  should  lead 
him.  At  first  Jack  protested,  but  in  the  end  Rose  had 
her  way.  Chi,  on  Fleet,  was  to  ride  on  a  little  ahead  to  be 
within  call,  if  anything  should  be  needed.  "  Kind  of 
scoutin'  to  remind  us  of  Cuby,  Jack,"  he  said,  laughing, 
as  he  helped  him  into  the  saddle. 

They  were  all  on  the  porch  to  see  the  little  cavalcade 
set  forth,  the  pony  whinnying  his  delight  to  find  his  master 
on  his  back.  Rose  took  the  bridle.  Suddenly  she  dropped 
it,  turned,  and  came  back  to  the  steps  where  Hazel  stood 
between  Mrs.  Blossom  and  March.  She  put  up  her  arms, 
and  clasping  the  young  girl  about  the  waist,  drew  her 
down  to  kiss  her,  and  whisper : 

"  Oh,  Hazel !  What  if  you  had  n't  come  to  us !  —  All 
this  happiness  is  through  you." 

And  Hazel,  but  dimly  perceiving  Rose's  meaning,  whis 
pered  back  as  she  kissed  her : 

"And  if  I  had  n't  come,  Rose-pose,  /should  never  have 
been  rich  as  I  am  now;  Chi  can't  call  me  'poor'  any 
longer  —  for  you  're  all  mine,  now  that  you  are  Jack's ; 
aren't  you?" 

March,  hearing  those  whispered  words,  found  his  mother's 
hand,  somehow,  —  and  Mrs.  Blossom  understood. 

"  Good-night,  Martie  dear,"  cried  Rose,  love  and  tears 
and  laughter  struggling  in  her  voice. 

"  Good-night,  Rose  dear." 


A  Daughter  of  the  Rich  349 

"  Good-night,  Rose  —  Good-night,  Jack ! "  cried  the 
twins. 

A  white  slipper  filled  with  rice  flew  after  Little  Shaver, 
and  hit  him  on  the  left  hock.  But  he  was  a  well-bred  polo 
pony,  and  a  white  satin  slipper  with  a  little  rice  was  as 
nothing  to  a  swift,  long-distance  polo  ball ;  so  he  gave  no 
sign. 

Chi  stopped  at  the  little  house  "over  eastwards." 
Maria-Ann  was  on  the  lookout. 

"  They  're  comin'  along  just  by  the  turn  of  the  road," 
he  spoke  low,  "  can  you  see  'em  ?  " 

The  road  lay  white  in  the  moonlight.  "  Yes,  yes,"  cried 
Maria-Ann  excitedly,  "  Oh,  Chi,  ain't  it  beautiful !  " 

"  Sh  —  sh !  "  said  Chi,  "  they  '11  hear  you.  Hark !  By 
George  Washin'ton !  she  's  singin'  —  Get,  Fleet."  The 
horse  loped  along  over  the  moonlit  road,  and  Maria- Ann 
went  in  and  shut  the  door  —  all  but  a  crack.  To  that  she 
put  her  ear,  to  hear  what  the  clear,  sweet  roice  was 

singing : 

"  '  I  told  thee  when  love  was  hopeless ; 
But  now  he  is  wild  and  sings  — 
That  the  stars  above 
Shine  ever  on  Love, 
Though  they  frown  on  the  fate  of  kings.' " 

Mount  Hunger  stood  bathed  in  white  radiance.  The 
stars  came  out,  but  faintly ;  —  still,  they  were  shining. 


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